


my doorbell, when you gonna ring it?

by spectrespecs



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, Hand Jobs, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Minor Allura/Lance (Voltron), Mutual Pining, everything was domestic and nothing hurt, home remodeling woes, navigating the real estate market, some light edging
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2019-09-06 17:07:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 34,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16836826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spectrespecs/pseuds/spectrespecs
Summary: Shiro, a chronic apartment renter, feels like it's time for him to settle down and buy a house. He thinks so, at least. Keith, one of the finest real estate agents in the city, is the one tasked with finding Shiro a home. They both find a little more than intended.





	1. we found a home

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is my actual child, nine months in the making. She has grown beyond my first imaginings and therefore is now multi-chaptered.
> 
> Blows kisses to everyone who supported and talked to me during my process of getting this first part written.
> 
> Title from [My Doorbell](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IlcMRq3gb1s) by The White Stripes

Altea Realty sits in a nondescript strip mall between a sandwich shop and a craft supply store. The sign above the door simply states the company name in black letters with some pictures of available properties scrolling through screens on the front window. The company is small and doesn’t have the reputation of one of the more well-known national agencies, but the high recommendations through word of mouth about the quality of the agents keeps a strong clientele going through Altea’s door. That high praise from a coworker is the reason why Shiro is currently stepping through the chiming front door of the real estate agency. 

Takashi Shirogane—chronic apartment renter from college to almost a decade into post-grad life—believes the time has come for him to make an investment and live in a real, honest to god house. Not a duplex. Not a house for rent. A real house that he needs to have a 30-year loan and mortgage to own. If anyone asks, he says it’s just time for him to stop renting and buy his own place to settle down, but really it’s because Shiro just wants a dog and a backyard for that dog to run around in. Maybe it’s also partially the former and responsible reason as well.

Upon entering Altea Realty, the receptionist greets Shiro and asks how she can help him. 

“Hi, I have an appointment with Keith?” Shiro replies. The names of the realtor and the agency he works for were given to Shiro by a coworker, Hunk, after Shiro expressed interest in buying a house. Both names sat in the back of Shiro’s mind for months until a few weeks ago when he made the mistake of stopping by the local animal shelter. Very quickly, Shiro realized he couldn’t walk past the first few cages without the desire to immediately adopt a furry friend and take them back to his non-pet-allowing apartment building. 

“Great, he’s back down the hallway and on the left,” the receptionist gestures to said hallway, and Shiro nods in thanks. 

Between the walls painted a surprisingly comforting shade of light yellow-orange and bulletin boards covered in pictures of people smiling in front of houses, the office feels bright and full of real estate hope. There’s a conference room with glass walls and opposite it, an office with the nameplate  _ KEITH _ outside. Shiro tentatively knocks on the doorframe and leans his head inside the space. Who Shiro assumes is Keith jumps at the sound and swivels around in his chair from where he was intently staring at a computer screen. There are breadcrumbs on the side of his mouth, and Shiro can’t help but find the sight a mixture of cute and endearing.

“Hi, Keith?” Shiro asks. 

“Yeah, sorry,” Keith nods, black hair falling into his face, and stands up, sticking a hand out. “I got a bit caught up in something. You’re my one o’clock appointment? Takashi?”

“Call me Shiro. Nice to meet you, Keith.” Shiro smiles and shakes Keith’s outstretched hand, and even though he corrected Keith on his name, Shiro felt warm to hear his given name in the other man’s voice. Shiro does a quick up-and-down of Keith, sizing up the real estate agent. He’s wearing all black with a purple tie, and slightly long dark hair softens Keith’s face with its slight curl at the ends. He only comes up to Shiro’s chin in height, and Shiro thinks he looks like a real estate agent who would fight for a good deal on his clients’ behalf. Shiro also believes this because Hunk told him that Keith convinced the sellers to go down $40,000 from their asking price on the house Hunk bought. 

“Take a seat,” Keith gestures to one of the chairs in front of his desk and pushes paper wrappers with the name of the sandwich shop next door off his desk and into a trash can. “What are you looking for in a house?” Keith asks once both of them have settled in their respective seats. The real estate agent takes out a notebook and pen and looks down at a fresh page where he writes  _ SHIRO _ across the top.

“Well,” Shiro starts slowly, “I would like a big yard...for a dog.”

Keith quickly scribbles down the words as soon as Shiro says them and slowly nods to himself. When Shiro doesn’t continue listing requirements for his ideal home, Keith looks back up at the other man and stares expectantly.

“And that’s all I really know for sure right now,” Shiro admits.

“You’re serious?” Keith continues to stare at the man across him, making Shiro squirm in his seat. That leveled gaze manages to hold a combination of condescension, surprise, and pity. This is probably the look that gets Keith deals for clients on houses.

“I mean, I guess I would want at least an extra room to make a home gym?” Shiro adds, tone even questioning himself on this admission.

Keith snorts but writes down Shiro’s response. “Keep going while you’re thinking aloud. It helps.”

Through a questioning process that feels a little bit like pulling teeth, Shiro eventually manages to create a list of house wants that consists of at least three bedrooms, one room having the option of becoming aforementioned home gym, two bathrooms, hardwood floors, granite countertops, a deck, and an open floor plan all wrapped up in literally any style of home. Shiro gave a blank look when Keith asked if he wanted a modern exterior or something more like a ranch, so Keith decided on  _ open to anything. _ Shiro also doesn’t mind the location that much as long as it’s a reasonable driving commute from where he works close to the downtown area of the city.

“What do you do?” Keith asks while writing down the location information.

“I’m an engineer,” Shiro replies, knowingly down selling himself.

“This is a decent starting point,” Keith taps the page of the notebook with the pen in his hand. “But, one last question, and it’s the big one, what’s your budget?”

“Um, I don’t really have one,” Shiro says flatly, and Keith drops his pen. The office is silent as the pen rolls off the notebook onto the desk and then softly thuds onto the floor. “The bank approved me for a, um, high loan amount. Is that a problem?” Shiro winces.

“Uh, no,” Keith clears his throat and pulls another pen out of a novelty mug with  _ Everything I touch turns to SOLD _ printed on it. “But I do need to know what you think is an unreasonable amount.”

Shiro contemplates for a minute before giving Keith a number that almost makes the realtor drop his pen again. Thanks to Shiro’s constant choice to rent apartments and his relatively high salary, he has a significant amount of room to work with to buy a house.

“Okay, well,” Keith says once he’s finished some additional notes about optimal times for them to meet up to look at houses. “I’ll start looking into some places and get back to you when I’ve got some viewings set up.”

“Great, thanks for your help, Keith,” Shiro nervously runs both hands through his hair and fidgets with the long white bangs before standing and putting his hand out to shake the other man’s.

“Glad to help,” Keith replies, looking Shiro in the eyes. Shiro momentarily gets caught in Keith’s gaze and forgets to let go of the realtor’s hand. He suddenly relinquishes his hold and takes a step back, and Keith raises his right eyebrow.

Shiro manages to make it through the clumsy farewell and out of Keith’s office, thanking the receptionist and looking forward to when he gets a call from his realtor.

\-----

All of Keith’s dreams are coming true. Every prayer of Keith’s has been heard and is being met. He’s going to send Hunk the largest gift basket he can find for referring Shiro to Altea Realty and Keith. Even though actually figuring out what the man wants in a house had been an absolute pain, what he’s left with gives Keith so much room to work with and a possibility to get a sizable commision. It could be Keith’s biggest sale; it could be enough to convince Coran for a raise. Also, Shiro was hot, and that was just the cherry on top of this day.

“Was that your new client?” Keith’s coworker Lance pokes his head into the office, ruining Keith’s day.

“You’re ruining my day,” Keith informs Lance as he turns back to the computer. 

“So,” Lance presses, taking steps into the room. “What’s his deal?”

“You just want to know the budget,” Keith replies. 

Lance works as half of a real estate duo with Allura. Together, they’re the unstoppable Team Blue because all of their signs and marketing materials feature a variety of shades of blue. They even go as far to have one small blue accessory if their outfits—often coordinated and on-trend—don’t have any of the color present. Keith thinks it’s obnoxious but also silently admires their dedication to the craft and each other. Lance and Allura met while they were taking their realtor license classes together, and then both of them were hired by Coran when he was starting up Altea. Team Blue had already sold several homes for extremely high prices by the time Keith joined the agency, and they were rising to fame as the Power Couple of Realty in the city. First-time home-buying couples and high-end clients always tended to gravitate to Allura and Lance.

“You wound me,” Lance gasps, offended, as he flops down onto the chair Shiro occupied mere minutes ago. “I have 30 minutes before Allura and I need to leave for a closing, and I just thought I’d come to check in. But I’ll leave if I’m so unwanted here.”

Lance starts to rise dramatically from the chair, and Keith says the number that’s Shiro’s maximum budget. 

“What?” Lance asks confused, fluffing up the blue pocket square on his gray blazer. 

“That’s Shiro’s max budget,” Keith responds, eyes still on his computer. He hears the sound of Lance throwing himself back into the chair and letting out a low whistle, and Keith swivels in his chair to face the other realtor, a small smug smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. 

“Is he really going to need anything that costs that much? There are probably some nice penthouses downtown listed for around that,” Lance muses.

“No,” Keith shakes his head, “he wants a house with a large yard. There’s literally no reason for his budget to be that high, but he also seems out of his realm.”

Lance leans forward in the chair, a wide smile breaking out across his face. “You’re going to fuck with him, aren’t you?”

“Now, Lance, you’re wounding  _ me,” _ Keith puts a hand on his chest in a gesture of offense. “I’m going to have  _ fun.” _ And that’s the truth. Of course, he wants to make a sale and get a nice commission off of it, but he also cannot resist the opportunity to take Shiro on a wild realty ride for a while. Keith also wants to make the most of his time with his new client as well.

\-----

Shiro does a double-take between his GPS stating he’s arrived at the address and the house that his car has come to a stop in front of. When Shiro turned into the housing development and saw the immaculate and extravagant homes, he figured that Keith had found something reasonably sized among the miniature castles. But, no, in front of Shiro is a two-story ranch-style house with a facade of stucco and brick. (Shiro might have done some research after his meeting with Keith to be less a rookie at this whole house thing.) The large driveway turns to the three-car garage on the right. The front of the house has a small staircase up to the main entrance. A set of double-doors on the second floor opens onto a small balcony. To the left of the front door, there is something Shiro thinks is supposed to be reminiscent of a bay window, but it’s way bigger and takes up a significant portion of the front of the house. The house looks lovely, but Shiro already feels like this is too much for his needs.

The front door opens up, and Keith steps out onto the set of entry stairs and squints at Shiro before waving and walking towards the man sitting in an idling car. 

“Glad you found the house okay,” Keith smiles once he approaches the rolled down window of Shiro’s car. He’s not in the severe all-black of the day they met but rather dark blue pants and a light grey button-up with the sleeves rolled back. Everything about Keith looks sharp and crisp, matching the spring weather outside.

“Really, this is the house?” Shiro shakes his head. “Keith, it’s too much.”

“No way,” Keith dismisses Shiro’s concern with a small wave of his hand. “It’s got everything you’re looking for and a bit more. Just check it out.” 

“It just seems like too much,” Shiro doesn’t feel convinced at all.

“Come on, let’s have some fun,” Keith says, “It’s the first house we’re looking at. It won’t hurt.”

Shiro acquiesces to Keith and parks his car along the sidewalk. It didn’t take long for Shiro to break, and he will not admit it might be because Keith’s smile and the sun gleaming off his shiny, dark hair had some impact on Shiro’s brain. Keith watches over Shiro until the taller man comes up to the realtor on the sidewalk.

“It’s three floors, 5,711 square feet, five bedrooms, four and a half bathrooms,” Keith lists off the amenities of the house as they walk side-by-side up the driveway.

Shiro makes a strangled sound at the information and stops walking. “This is way, way more than I need.”

“It’s a little less than your max budget,” Keith stops ahead of Shiro and turns to look at the other man. “I’m showing you what the most you can get is with what you gave me to work with.” Keith sounds annoyed and turns back around to continue the walk to the house. Shiro feels bad because he did give Keith some wildly open options while trying to find a house, and Keith did do what was asked of him.

“I’m sorry,” Shiro hastily apologizes and jogs slightly to catch up to Keith. “You did your job, and I’m just being more of a pain than I already have been as a client.” Shiro reaches Keith, who doesn’t turn to look at his client, but one side of his mouth is slightly turned upward in a resemblance of a tiny smirk.

“It’s fine,” Keith waves him off again. “This’ll be a learning experience if anything.”

Once inside, the house manages to be even grander than the outside let on. The foyer opens to a living room on the left and set of double staircases up to the second floor with one side of the stairs turning to go down to the basement floor. Behind the stairs, there are sliding doors to a study area. Walking further inside, the dining room, half bath, and kitchen are on the right. 

In the kitchen, there’s a large walk-in pantry with a small counter and sink inside, which confuses Shiro. Keith explains the purpose and history of a butler’s pantry to Shiro, who decides he definitely does not need one. Beyond the kitchen are the laundry area and a small mudroom that leads into the three-car garage. Inside the garage, Shiro finds the first space that he didn’t think about needing: a designated workshop area. 

“This is nice,” Shiro says while sliding his hand along the new workbench.

“I told you,” Keith says, sounding satisfied. “This house has everything you need and then some, with surprises.”

They return into the main house where they go into the family room that’s across from the kitchen, and then Keith informs Shiro that the space between the kitchen and the family room serves as a breakfast nook.

“Why do you need a breakfast nook?” Shiro asks, returning to his agitation at unnecessary house features. 

“For breakfast,” Keith states, matter-of-factly. 

The nook has a door out onto an enormous deck that overlooks an even larger backyard. There’s an outdoor kitchen on the deck and a see-through fireplace that allows it to be used either outside or inside in the nook. It all feels exceedingly extravagant.

“Look at all the space outside for dog,” Keith gestures out to the fenced-in yard space. “It’s really enough space for maybe two or three dogs.”

“Two...dogs…” Shiro slowly contemplates. He never even thought about two dogs. Two dogs are even better than just one dog and suddenly this house feels like a perfect choice.

“I was kidding,” Keith scowls with some concern. “You don’t really need to have two dogs.”

Shiro shakes himself out of his thoughts filled with two large dogs running around in the yard while a small one lounges on the deck in a dog bed. 

Once back inside, they go upstairs and look at the smaller bedrooms on the second floor. Shiro finds himself disappointed that the small balcony is part of one of the smaller rooms rather than the master bedroom.

“This is a waste of a balcony,” Shiro laments while he and Keith stand out on it, looking at their cars parked on the street. 

“You could use this as guest bedroom to impress people,” Keith offers.

“What guests would I want to impress?” Shiro asks, watching a couple walk their two beagles down the street.

“I don’t know, in-laws?”

“Would this impress your parents?”

Shiro regrets the words as soon as they’re out of his mouth, and the immediate silence that follows makes Shiro want to leap from the balcony.

“I don’t know,” Keith awkwardly laughs and pats Shiro on the bicep clumsily as he backs away into the house. 

Shiro knows his face is red and waits for a minute before joining Keith back inside for the rest of the viewing. Why had he said that? He fully expects Keith to dump Shiro as a client after everything that’s happened today

He finds himself apologizing to Keith again, and Keith, as always, waves it off as no big deal. Keith leads Shiro to go look at the master suite, which has vaulted ceilings and large windows overlooking the immense backyard space. They go into the master bathroom, which has nothing notably grand, other than a spacious whirlpool tub. 

“Why is there a small pool in the bathroom?” Shiro asks, gazing at the tub with his hands on his hips.

“So you can enjoy it with more than one person if you want,” Keith replies. 

“Oh,” Shiro feels his face heat up a little.

Then, to Shiro’s surprise, Keith climbs into the tub, leaning back with his arms resting behind him and legs stretched out, crossed at the ankles. “Want to try?” he asks with a smile.

“Uh...I dunno…” Shiro stammers.

“Come on,” Keith prods. “We’re having fun, remember?”

Shiro takes a deep breath and climbs into the tub. Keith takes up a small section of the tub, and Shiro tries to keep his larger frame from getting too close to his realtor. Thanks to its unnecessarily huge size, Shiro fits his whole body into the other side of the tub without being in contact with Keith, sparing him some embarrassing consequences.

“See,” Keith says smugly, “Big enough for two people with some extra space.” He nods his head at the few inches that remain between the two men. Keith lifts himself up as soon as his point has been made and Shiro scrambles to follow him out.

After briefly looking at the other rooms on the second floor, Keith leads Shiro down the stairs to the basement. He promises Shiro that the final floor has the best parts of the house, and he’s not lying. Not only does the completely finished basement have another bedroom and full bathroom, it has another living space for entertaining that includes a complete bar and wine cellar. The bar has a dark wood finish with shining black granite countertops. Shiro lets out an appreciative low whistle while standing in the middle of the space.

“Have I led you astray with anything in this house?” Keith asks while leaning against the bar, and Shiro once again examines the wine cellar. 

“It’s just too big,” Shiro states, closing the wine cellar door and looking back at Keith. “It’s way too big for me and one to two dogs. This is a family home.”

“Well,” Keith shrugs, pushing himself off the bar, “you never know what the future holds.”

\-----

It turns out the immediate future for both of them holds a chain restaurant in a nearby shopping center. Keith deemed that completing their first viewing deserved a celebratory lunch.

They’re sitting at a booth in the corner, surrounded by television screens showing a variety of sporting events battling with the sound of children happily yelling at other tables. Everything about the location is designed to set Keith on edge, but right now he is very much focused on the man sitting across him. 

Keith takes his clients out to lunch after their first showing if he can; it’s an act of courtesy. He uses the time to get a more basic knowledge of the client’s life and impression of the first home they see while taking mental notes to make certain tweaks to their requirements. Unfortunately, Keith forgets all of this when Shiro’s muscles flex as he raises his arm to brush back his white bangs, the slightly tight button-up shirt with rolled sleeves allowing Keith to have to imagine very little about what’s underneath. 

“So,” Keith begins, absently stirring his straw around the glass of Coke that’s just been set in front of him by the waitress. 

“So?” Shiro repeats as he tries to examine the three separate menus they were both given. 

“What did you think of the house?” Keith asks, annoyed that Shiro hadn’t already launched into a dissection of the mini-mansion they had just seen. They drove in their respective cars to the restaurant after leaving and had not had the opportunity to discuss it yet. 

“It’s just too much,” Shiro shrugs. “I told you.”

“And I told you, I’m trying to show you what the most can get you,” Keith starts to examine the specials menu distractedly, eyes drifting away from Shiro. He knows there’s a need to maintain a level of professionalism while talking to a client—Keith is good at that—but something about Shiro makes him want to throw that all out the window. 

“I appreciate that, but it’s still too much,” Shiro looks up at Keith with a smile that the real estate agent catches out of the corner of his vision, his eyes still trained on the variety of burgers the establishment has to offer. 

The waitress reappears to take their orders, interrupting the conversation. Keith frowns when Shiro has the audacity to order a salad with a milkshake. 

“You’re strange,” Keith muses once the waitress disappears. 

“Oh?” Shiro says. “Is that something you should say to a client?”

Keith’s face heats a little. “I’m just saying, you order a salad and milkshake and have this ridiculous budget for a house that’s really just so you can have a dog. You’re like a surrealist painting, a fever dream embodied in a person.”

“You’re saying I’m dreamy?” Shiro puts his chin on his hands and grins. 

Keith sputters and is filled with the desire to slide out of the booth onto the ground. Maybe the growing pool of condensation around his glass will be enough to drown him soon.

“I’m sorry,” Shiro says with a small laugh. “You hung the opportunity in front of me. I’ll go back to the real estate agent and client professionalism.”

Keith nods in agreement. It shouldn’t be this easy for Keith to just get lost in this other man, but he can’t help it. Talking to him has been effortless, as long as it’s not about real estate, apparently. The banter is nice. Shiro’s face is nicer. 

“So, what else are we going to see today?” Shiro presses, pivoting back to real estate as he’d promised.

“Telling you now would ruin the surprise,” Keith grins back and takes an innocent sip of his soda, delighting in Shiro’s groan.

“As long as it’s not another mansion,” Shiro’s eyes twinkle, reflecting the lights of the television showing a football game next to their table. He leans back, resting his arms along the back of the booth, and Keith barely stops his jaw from dropping as the man’s muscles become more prominent through the action. 

Keith grabs his phone and mutters something about checking work emails to which Shiro nods and turns his attention to the football game. With an idea forming, Keith starts firing off quick texts and emails to reassess his afternoon showing plans with Shiro.

“Keith,” Shiro groans later as they exit the real estate agent’s car. Following lunch, they decided to just use one car for the rest of the day’s showings, which ended up meaning Shiro’s tall and muscled stature had to be folded into Keith’s sensible yet surprisingly zippy black coupe. 

“Just don’t say anything yet, okay?” Keith retorts, locking his car and walking ahead of Shiro to the sleek high-rise building. He’s fully aware that this next home is missing that incredibly important backyard for a dog, but Keith decided over lunch that he wanted to show his client all extremes of his budget. 

So what if they had been scheduled to see a ranch style house with a wraparound porch in a quiet neighborhood with a backyard backing up to a small creek? So what if that house was barely a third of Shiro’s budget? They’ll get to that one eventually. 

Shiro crosses his arms like a reprimanded child in defiance, and Keith spares a quick glance at the biceps that he’s become very fond of over the course of the day. His dark eyes flick up to Shiro’s face where he meets steel looking back at him with a small smirk. Keith attempts to squash down his immediate reaction to be flustered at being caught but knows his face displays a red blush of truth. 

The crossed arm silence continues between them until Keith unlocks the front door of the penthouse that was never on Keith’s list for Shiro to see until less than an hour ago. 

“Huh,” Shiro simply says in mild surprise. “Not what I was expecting,” he continues while walking through the door Keith is holding open. 

Everything from the building itself to the sleek lobby indicates that all units inside should be the same modern clean lines. But it’s not. 

The penthouse takes up a generous portion of this floor of the building. Its hardwood floors are a gleaming Brazilian Cherry, nicely complementing the exposed brick walls lining one side of the living room area that they’ve walked into. The walls are all painted a warm cream tone that makes the space feel safe and homey. The kitchen is open to the right with shining stainless steel appliances, dark cherry cabinets, and stone grey floors. On the far side of the living space, the wall is just one large window looking out onto the city below. 

Shiro walks to the window and stands with his arms behind his back, peering down and out at the city below him. “Why did you bring me here?” he asks, back still turned to Keith, who is leaning on a kitchen counter. 

“I’m trying to show you everything your budget has to offer, Shiro,” Keith attempts to explain himself. 

Shiro snorts at the response and turns towards the hallway that leads towards the bedrooms and bathrooms, not sparing a glance at the agent. Keith doesn’t move, just follows his client with his eyes as he disappears and lets out a breath once Shiro’s out of view. Maybe this hasn’t been a smart idea. Maybe he’s pushing it with a client he’s barely convinced of his abilities as a real estate agent. 

Rolling his shoulders, Keith goes to find Shiro, who is standing in the same pose he was in the living room but at a similar full wall window in the master bedroom. The man is standing stock still, not the slightest sign of movement at the sound of Keith’s shoes on the hardwood indicating his presence. 

“What do you think?” Keith asks, afraid of breaking the silence but also unable to handle it anymore. 

“It’s fine,” Shiro replies with no emotion. A slight movement of his shoulders appears to have been a shrug. 

“I’m sorry,” Keith rushes out. “I did honestly want to show you everything in your range. There’s just so many options and I didn’t want to leave anything out. I’m sorry, and we’re only on the second house and I fucked—“

“No,” Shiro cuts Keith off. Keith lets out a small gasp at his own dip into unprofessionalism by swearing and also the tense tone Shiro has used. 

“I’m sorry,” Keith repeats quietly. 

“I like what you’ve shown me. I get why you did it. But, the first house was too much like something I’m so far from having. A sprawling family home? That’s not me right now. And this—“ Shiro waves his hand around, still not turning to look at Keith, “This is too much like what I already have. Like what I’m just destined to always have.”

Keith feels cold dread creeping through his nerves. The following silence is one he can’t bring himself to break, and he can’t form words even if he tried. Opening and closing his mouth several times before finding his voice, Keith offers another apology. 

“I should apologize,” Shiro’s shoulders sag and he raises his metal arm to the back of his head, running fingers through the cropped hair of his undercut. “I’ve been a difficult client.”

“No, no,” Keith cries, eyes going wide. “You told me what you wanted. Exactly. That’s what I’ll show you.”

Shiro nods and moves to wrap his arms around his torso, as if protecting himself in a hug. Keith’s heart breaks a little seeing that he caused Shiro this kind of unnecessary emotion over something that should have been easy. Keith also didn’t realize it would take less than 24 hours with the man to make the real estate agent simply crumble to see his client in distress.

“Let’s call it today and try again another day?” Keith asks softly. 

“Yeah,” Shiro replies in the same quiet tone and finally turns around, moving his arms to his side and looking at Keith. 

As they make their way out of the apartment building, no words are exchanged between the two, but Keith knows that he wants—no, needs—to be a part of Shiro finding a home. A real home. Something to call his own.

\-----

Shiro wakes to a text from Keith telling him to meet the agent at a restaurant for lunch before going to see the houses on the day’s itinerary. It’s been a week since the first day of showings they went to together, and communication between the agent and client has been minimal save for a few short texts confirming availability for viewing properties. When Shiro had arrived home following the tense ending to their day, he collapsed onto his couch, not bothering to turn on any lights in his apartment, and fell asleep there in the living room, feeling an amount of exhaustion down to his core.

Tossing his phone back onto the nightstand, Shiro rolls over and tries to bury his face deep into the pillow. A hook felt caught in his chest over the house hunt. Over the past week, he kept mulling over whether this was all worth it or not. The apartment Shiro lived in for the past few years had long proven itself to be sufficient with its open modern layout and bright windows. He entertained only a handful of times a year when having his small group of friends and close co-workers over, so the space had never felt like too much or too little until this new need to move on took hold on Shiro. But now he felt like maybe he’s tethered to this place forever.

But the search so far felt like more strife than anything else. Shiro knows he didn’t give Keith much to work with, but there’s still a pang of hurt thinking about the day spent looking at homes that were just reminders of what he didn’t have. Of what he wanted. But Keith did his best, and Shiro still believes in him. He’s not giving up on the real estate agent yet, plus, Shiro likes looking at Keith. There is a severity and gentleness to him, and Shiro wants to know both of those sides better. It also had been shockingly easy to spill out his emotions over the homes, voicing things he could barely admit to himself, to the other man. 

Jolting awake at the sound of his phone ringing, Shiro gets his legs tangled in the sheets while trying to retrieve the device. Apparently, he succeeded in falling back asleep during his morning musings. Keith’s name is flashing across the phone screen.

“Hey,” Shiro answers, voice rough, not yet clear of sleep.

“Oh—hi,” Keith stutters out, voice slightly tinny with the sound of wind in the background.

“Sorry, I fell asleep before I could reply about meeting.”

“Mhmm,” Keith hums, “And that’s why I’m going to pick you up in 30 minutes because it’s almost time for us to get lunch and then hit the real estate market.”

“What,” Shiro abruptly sits up at the thought of Keith coming to his apartment. 

“Just tell me where you live and I’ll be outside your building in 30,” Keith replies with the beep of a car unlocking.

Shiro tells Keith the name of the high rise he lives in, and Keith hangs up after saying he knows the building. Shiro rubs his face with both hands and lets out a sigh before finally pulling himself out of bed and rushing to get ready.

Maybe today will be different.

\-----

Keith keeps his eyes on the menu in front of him and tries not to let his gaze drift and linger on the man across him.  _ Professional _ , Keith reminds himself; he is a goddamn professional and will not have a crush on a client that he already gave a minor breakdown within hours of their first day of viewings. Except, Keith already has the crush and today is completely centered around the agent undoing the wrongs of the previous week.

On the other side of the table, Shiro is also examining his menu, a slight furrow in his brow. Keith wants to reach over and cup Shiro’s face to relax the other man’s expression. They’re sitting in a corner table of a small cafe that Keith has always been partial to, but it is not a place he ever brings clients. He’s letting Shiro be the exception into a small part of his own life in trade for what Shiro bared to him, even if his client isn’t aware that’s why they’re in this restaurant and this is really quite not an even trade at all.

Since Keith picked Shiro up, they only shared a general greeting and Keith asked if sandwiches appealed to the other man. The ride passed in silence otherwise, and, so far, as has their time sitting in the restaurant. Finally, a server comes by to take their orders, but this also means that both men have lost their menu safety blankets.

“So,” Keith begins, mirroring the start of the conversation the last time they were in a restaurant.

“So,” Shiro smirks back, seemingly fully aware that they’re in the process of repeating history. Keith misses the smooth tone of Shiro’s sleep coated voice from earlier in the day that gave the real estate agent a slow, heated feeling in his stomach.

“What kind of dog do you have?” Keith asks, just trying to get a conversation going.

“I don’t have one,” a puzzled expression crosses Shiro’s face.

“Then why do you need space for a dog?” Keith stares at the other man, jaw slightly dropped.

“Because I want to get a dog!” Shiro cries, “That’s the point!”

“Wow, this whole time I thought you already had a dog that you just wanted to give it more space,” Keith slumps back in his chair.

“My building doesn’t even allow pets,” Shiro whines, and the childish attitude makes Keith laugh.

Shiro’s eyes turn from where they drifted to look solemnly at his glass of water while contemplating a pet dog to Keith, and he gives the agent a smile while relaxing back into his chair and starts laughing. Keith rolls his eyes at Shiro and crosses his arms, pretending to look out the window, but his cheeks are heating. So what if he somehow managed to miss that point if it had ever been brought up in conversation? It’s not his fault that Shiro is distracting sometimes.

“Sorry, sorry,” Shiro gets the rest of his laughter out before asking, “So, what brought you to real estate?”

“Something to do,” Keith looks back at Shiro and shrugs.

“But from what I’ve heard, you’re very good at it,” Shiro leans forward and places his elbows on the table, holding his head in both hands as he gazes at Keith.

“Yeah, I am,” Keith can’t help the smirk that crosses his face. “It’s nice being able to help people find a home, whether it’s their first or fifth, you’re helping someone find a place that will be  _ theirs, _ that they’re going to fill up with themselves, with memories, and be the place they want to go to at the end of the day. It’s a good feeling.”

“That’s an awfully poetic view of the real estate market,” Shiro’s eyebrows raise in mild surprise.

“It’s no use if you’re after a commission and don’t care. It’s more than just showing people a random collection of houses, you have to put thought in it,” Keith blanches at his words, realizing it looks like he did the complete opposite of that at their first viewing day, and now just sounds like a hypocrite.

Shiro simply responds with a hum and moves back from the table, choosing not to say anything but giving a knowing look to Keith. Their food arrives, taking away Keith’s chance to try and explain himself, but he decides to maybe let the day’s houses makeup and serve as an apology.

\-----

“Oh, wow,” Shiro breathes out, almost pressing his face against the window of Keith’s car as they pull up the long driveway to a two-story Craftsman style home. 

The neighborhood they’re in is a good 30-minute drive out from the city center, but this also allows for huge plots of land for houses to sit on. The house in front of them has forest green siding with white trim on all the windows and the front porch. A detached garage sits to the right of the home up the driveway, built to resemble the house. Tall, robust trees grow in the lush green yard around the house, which almost makes it look like the house disappears into the flora around it. 

Keith parks the car in front of the garage and barely unlocks the doors before Shiro already pulls himself out of the vehicle and looks around, eyes wide. The space calms Shiro because of how the house feels to just flow back and become a part of the environment in which it was built. Without thinking, he walks to a spot in the yard between some trees and turns his head up to the sky. A slight breeze moves the branches back and forth as light filters down from the sun, warming the skin on Shiro’s face.

“You’re already a fan, I see,” Keith says softly from Shiro’s side. Shiro opens his eyes to reply to Keith but the words fail to make it out. Bits of Keith’s hair is also blowing in the breeze, flitting across his face and then setting back down as the sun places a glow on Keith’s head. The smile on Keith’s face does it in for Shiro, though. Maybe that smile is the light illuminating Keith’s face and not the sun. Lost in thought staring at the real estate agent, Shiro gives a small nod before forcing himself to break his gaze away.

“Tell me about the house, Keith,” Shiro finally manages to ask.

“Okay, don’t freak out at some of the details, but it’s actually got three floors because of a basement, 2,683 square feet with five bedrooms and three full bathrooms.”

“The house doesn’t even look like it has all that space,” Shiro tilts his head, dumbfounded by the specs of the home.

“That first house just had huge spaces and extras everywhere, this house is built much more compact,” Keith explains while leading Shiro up to the entrance.

Once inside, Shiro stands in the foyer, allowing himself to assess first impressions. Stairs leading up and down are directly in front of the entry area with the living room on the left and dining room on the right. Both spaces are a respectable size, and as Keith said, definitely smaller than the mini-mansion from the other day. Shiro ventures deeper into the first floor where there’s a good size kitchen with an island and a family room with built-in bookshelves surrounding a fireplace. Keith points out that there’s a perfectly good breakfast nook as well, and Shiro rolls his eyes while looking into the properly sized pantry and wandering over to the den slash guest room and a first-floor bathroom. He still doesn’t understand the purpose of a nook.

Shiro does not find anything out of the ordinary on the second floor save for the huge windows in the master that look over the backyard. All the other bedrooms and bathrooms seem adequate, but he does question why anyone needs a huge walk-in closet that the master bathroom contains.

“Two people are typically sharing it,” Keith says off-handedly when Shiro voices his thoughts on said closet.

“I don’t even think my clothes would take up half of this space,” Shiro shakes his head. “Would yours even take up the rest of this space?” Shiro realizes how the question sounds as soon as the words leave his mouth and he rushes to try and correct himself but just sputters out half-formed words.

“No, Shiro,” Keith grins, “I don’t think all our clothes combined would take up the whole closet.” The real estate agent walks out of the space, swinging the keys around one finger. Shiro swears he hears what can only be described as nonchalant whistling as Keith makes his way back out into the rest of the house.

After a round looking at the weather deck at the back of the house and the backyard, the two make their way back to the front. Keith locks the door and then sits down on the front steps, patting the space next to him and looking over his shoulder at Shiro, who cautiously sits himself down on the step, leaving a very apparent amount of space between them.

“Was this too much?” Keith asks, eyes set on a tree in the front yard even though Shiro can’t seem to look anywhere else but at his real estate agent.

“It felt like it was less too much than the mansion,” Shiro muses. “Does that make sense?”

Keith nods. “Does it feel like too much if you think of it as a space to grow into?”

“With the right person, yeah maybe,” Shiro says this with lightness, once again not thinking before speaking and what it might look like since he’s saying this while quite intently watching the hair on Keith’s head ruffle in the breeze.

“And the right dog?” Keith smirks, turning to look at Shiro, not expecting to have such an intense gaze locked on him, the smirk becomes a wide-eyed look of surprise. 

“The right dog, too,” Shiro tries to keep his voice gentle and doesn’t move his gaze, thinking it would be worse to suddenly divert it. He internally sighs in relief with the smile comes back to Keith’s face and the other man laughs.

“C’mon,” Keith pushes himself up off the porch and holds a hand out to pull Shiro up, and he would be lying to say there wasn’t a moment where Shiro felt like swooning at the hidden strength in Keith’s arms.

Keith ends up showing Shiro a few more houses in the area that are all similarly respectable, still a bit on the large side, but feel like places to grow into. The conversation also starts to ease up between them with bits and pieces about their lives being revealed to each other. Keith talks about the love of his life, his motorcycle, which he only ever rides to the closing of clients’ houses. The tradition makes Shiro bark in laughter while they stand in a living room with high ceilings and dark stained beams, part of a reasonable ranch-style home. 

“It’s a nice surprise,” Keith shrugs in defense. “Except, I guess I’ve ruined it for you.”

“Well, you’ll have to do something extra special for me,” Shiro replies with a glowing smile, and he pretends to not notice the blush that softly dusts Keith’s cheeks, mostly because he knows something similar is breaking out surrounding the scar across his face.

Shiro finally admits he’s the head of engineering at Garrison Co., which makes Keith’s eyes bulge momentarily before he just nods in a  _ that makes sense  _ kind of way.

“So, what floor of that building do you work in?” Keith asks, opening the door of a closet in what would serve as a guest bedroom of a different ranch-style house. 

Garrison Co.’s building is a staple of the city’s skyline, rising higher than everything around it by several hundred feet. When the sun sets and when it rises, the windows always beautifully reflect the light and give the building a glow of orange that looks like fire. While most of the top floors of the building are taken up by the company, the rest of the building serves multiple purposes with other major companies in the city also having offices there.

“I’m on the 67th floor, corner office,” Shiro replies, voice quiet with self-consciousness.

Keith lets out a slow whistle. 

“That has to be a view.”

“Yeah, but this one is better,” Shiro says, except they’re still standing in one of the house’s guest bedrooms, and he is looking at Keith. “I mean—uh—the backyard…” even as Shiro tries to explain himself, he knows it’s a futile attempt and sounds less than convincing with the stammers he barely manages his tongue around.

“I agree,” Keith smirks and leaves the room, making Shiro contemplate if he could lie down and become one with the unfortunate magenta carpeting in the house so he never had to open his mouth again. Why does this seem to be a reoccurring theme in all the days they spend together?

Shiro eventually finds the strength to go on, and he also exits the room and looks for where Keith went in the house and pretends to care about the rest of it when his thoughts are actually focused on the way Keith’s hair curls around the collars of all his button-up shirts.

Once they finish making their way through what is the last house on the list for the day, Keith turns to Shiro before unlocking the car doors.

“What did you think?”

“Today was good, thank you, Keith,” Shiro smiles softly, hoping a fraction of his gratitude for Keith’s understanding in his more-difficult-than-it-should-be house hunt.

“Good,” Keith responds with the biggest smile Shiro has seen on him, and it’s enough brightness to illuminate Shiro’s nights for the rest of his life.

\-----

“What’s going on, champ,” Lance asks as he throws himself into a chair across Keith’s desk. This is becoming an increasingly frequent thing that happens lately.

“Working, Lance,” Keith intones, not wanting to engage with the other agent right now. “Shouldn’t you be off somewhere with Allura?”

“We do spend time apart, you know,” Lance crosses his arms. “It’s important for a successful relationship. I think,” he adds the second part as if its an afterthought, a scowl on his face makes Keith assume this was something Allura told her fiancé

When Keith doesn’t reply to Lance, the other agent stands up, giving Keith hope that he’s leaving, when in reality he leans over the desk to look at what’s on Keith’s computer screen.

“Who’s looking for a fixer-upper?” Lance asks.

“No one,” Keith replies, voice tense.

“What, who are your clients right now?” 

“Shiro.”

“And?”

“...Shiro.”

Lance throws himself into the chair, again, and it scrapes across the floor.

“You’re telling me you’re spending all your time on one client right now?” Lance asks, jabbing a finger at Keith, who has decided to turn around and face his colleague.

“He’s, you know, a complex client,” Keith attempts to diffuse Lance’s accusations.

“He’s not that complex from what you’ve told me. Weren’t you fucking with him?”

“No,” Keith looks away. “Yes,” his shoulders fall. “It didn’t go...well... and now I need to make it up to him, and I know I can find him something really just  _ perfect  _ out here. The market is good.”

“The market is always good,” Lance rolls his eyes. “If we say it’s bad, we don’t make money and that—” he gestures to the outdated house on Keith’s screen, “is where we would have to live.”

“All of us?” Keith tilts his head, trying to hide his mocking behind feigned innocence.

“Ha ha, you’re funny,” Lance waves his hand. “Just tell me the truth, what’s up here.”

Keith remains silent. How does he tell Lance that he’s harboring a huge crush on his client that started as  _ oh no he’s hot _ and survival of the fittest allowed it to evolve into  _ oh no he’s hot and compassionate and intelligent.  _ This crush has now filled him with a burning desire to not only see the abs he knows lurk under Shiro’s shirts but also to find him the perfect house that Shiro can really call his  _ home. _

The long silence is enough for Lance to piece it together.

“Oh my god, you’re in  _ love,” _ Lance shrieks.

“No,” Keith flinches at Lance’s voice and the scrutiny he’s now under by the other agent.

“This is pitiful, you fell in love with a hot and rich client,” Lance laments.

“I’m not in  _ love _ with him,” Keith cries.

“But you like him.”

Keith nods, eyes on the spot on his desk where a pen that exploded ink permanently left a mark. It kind of resembles a dog’s head, but maybe Keith is projecting. 

Lance pulls out his phone and types something, and a few seconds after he locks the screen Allura’s voice yelling from two office doors down can be heard asking why her fiancé can’t just walk like a normal person. 

“What did you say to her?” Keith asks and fears the response. Before Lance can provide an answer, Allura appears in his doorway and throws herself much more gracefully than Lance does into the unoccupied chair. 

“Oh, Keith,” Allura’s eyes are shining and she leans forward to put her chin in her hands and rest her elbows on her legs. “Who is it?”

“What did Lance tell you?” Keith narrows his eyes at the couple. 

“That you’re in love,” Allura replies as if offended that Keith wasn’t aware of his current romantic situation. 

“I said I’m not in love!” Keith cries again and just gives up, putting his head down on the desk, cheek appreciating the cool, uncaring fake wood surface. 

Keith doesn’t see the look that Allura and Lance share, but Keith very much knows the only thing he loves right now is if they would leave him alone and allow him to wallow in peace. 

“Keith, can you do us a favor?” Allura asks, her voice losing its tone of  _ your poor thing. _

All Keith provides is a half grunt to her and a nod of his head still pressed to the desk. Something hits his head and Keith raises it to see Lance has folded and flung one of his business cards at Keith’s unfortunate display of self-loathing. 

“At least acknowledge her properly,” Lance calmly states while he prepares another projectile business card. 

“Yes, yes, I can help with whatever you need,” Keith rubs his eyes and lets them refocus on Allura and Lance. 

“Wonderful, we seem to have been over-booked for this afternoon, silly us, not updating our calendars in time,” Allura opens, “so, we need someone to take care of an open house we have from noon to six this evening. Can you do it?”

“It’s not my property though, and people will be expecting you,” Keith grumbles. 

“Oh, it’ll be fine. It’s a new property, and you can tell anyone who asks after us that we were caught up in something.”

“Yeah, great idea!” Lance nods in agreement. 

“Fine,” Keith sighs. He’s got about an hour to keep sadly scrolling through property listings this morning before he’ll need to go. 

“Wonderful, I’ll email you the details and bring by the brochures, our business cards, and the cookie dough,” Allura stands and pats Keith on the head before exiting. 

“...cookie dough?” Keith looks confusedly at Lance who just smiles, ruffles Keith’s hair, and leaves. 

Keith regrets everything that brought him to this moment in time. 

His watch says it’s only one o’clock in the afternoon, but Keith feels like he’s been at this house for much more than a single hour. He’d arrived promptly at 11:20am, as per Allura’s instructions saying it would take him at least 40 minutes to get everything prepared. With arms barely balancing papers, business cards, baking supplies, and two tubs of cookie dough, he unlocked the door and already felt exhausted by the day. 

Now, he’s standing in the kitchen of the respectable newly built house. It’s in a cookie-cutter brick house neighborhood that’s perfect for first or second time home buyers. The house is definitely on the smaller and less expensive side of what Allura and Lance typically represent, but it turns out the developer of this neighborhood is friends with Allura. 

“This is Romelle’s pet project,” Allura explained. “She prefers remodeling, designing, and building larger and more unique homes, but she said the land here was too good to give up and kept the neighborhood’s uniformity on the exteriors. The interiors, though. You’ll see her work.”

Fitting for a cookie cutter house, he’s pulling out the third batch of cookies of the afternoon from the oven. Allura insisted that the visualization of the kitchen being used to make something as wholesome as chocolate chip cookies and filling the rooms with the aroma would help people see themselves in the house. Keith insisted that it was too much, so Allura insisted back and pushed an apron at him to wear as well. It’s a typical novelty  _ Kiss the Cook _ apron, and Keith was appalled that she actually wore this during open houses. 

“I wear it,” Lance had winked from his desk in Team Blue’s office. 

But also true to Allura’s word, the interior of the house wasn’t the typical neutral walls and hastily selected wallpaper that developers assumed made homes look live-in ready. 

While most of the layout was standard, there were some touches that blew Keith away. In the kitchen, the walls were all cream except for one that was painted a deep plum, and the backsplash that covered all the spaces between counter and cabinets was made up of the smallest colored tiles arranged to look like stars and planets. If someone described the kitchen to Keith, he would have thought it sounded tacky, but matched with sleek black cabinets and antique hardware, it looked elegant. That’s the only way he could explain it. 

Part of the back wall of the house that wasn’t visible from the homeowners association approved facade was one very large window that looked into the backyard where there was a pool constructed to look as though it was part of a rocky seaside. The modern touch of the glass wall was beautiful. 

“Oh, are Allura and Lance not here?” Keith looks back from where he’s plating cookies onto a platter that Lance had threatened Keith’s life over if he were to damage it in any way. He had just brushed off his colleague while Lance said something about a Wedgwood Hibiscus Platter, but all Keith knew was it was just an oval plate that had blue on it.

“They send their apologies, but something came up,” Keith puts his customer service smile on that he’s perfected over the years at odd sales jobs and since getting into the world of real estate. The individual who had asked after Team Blue looks like someone that is just waiting to have a video filmed of her yelling at a certain tech store’s employees. 

“Shame, I was hoping to meet them,” the woman frowns while Keith contemplates how much hairspray has gone into keeping her hair at that volume. He offers his apologies again and that he can answer questions about the home and gives her the Team Blue card in hopes it will direct her away from him. It works, but she still looks down her nose at him as if he’s not fit to be there.

People come and go, and Keith stands there in the kitchen with cookies and his smile, doing the best he can to talk up the house and Romelle’s designs inside while handing out every brochure and card for Allura and Lance. Surprisingly, a few people even ask for his business card, which does wonders for his mood. It’s almost 4pm, and Keith has gotten so deeply in the groove of baking cookies and talking to people viewing the home that he forgets all about his earlier lamenting over a certain client of his. His only client. 

“Keith?” a voice he very much recognizes says his name right as he’s bent over trying to fish the baking tray out of the oven that he accidentally pushed into the far corner. There are two options: close his head in the oven and die right now knowing that the last image Shiro will have of Keith is his ass, or, Keith can just be a normal person and stand up and face the person he’s trying to not dwell on.

He chooses the latter because  _ bravery or some shit _ , Keith thinks.

“Hey, Shiro,” Keith tries to greet the other man with as chipper a voice as he’s capable when he turns around with the tray of fresh cookies. 

Shiro’s eyes slide from Keith’s face to the words on the apron, and finally land upon the cookies. As each sight is locked on, the small smile on Shiro’s face grows until his teeth are bared and a sudden laugh escapes his lips.

“Wow, I didn’t know you went all out for open houses,” Shiro sounds amused.

“I don’t,” Keith deadpans, “I’m doing this as a favor for Allura and Lance.”

“Really? Huh,” Shiro turns his head to looks around the kitchen, “Lance actually called me to come to this open house.”

“What? Why?” Keith fears whatever Shiro tells him because not one good thing has come out of anything Lance has done ever. Except maybe getting his realtor license and asking Allura out on their first date. His two and only good decisions.

“He said you rushed off to an open house that I’d like and didn’t get the chance to tell me about it, so you asked him to call me because you were busy,” Shiro shrugs, still looking intently at the stainless steel fridge instead of where Keith is standing in front of him.

“Oh,” there’s no way to lie out of this because Shiro is standing in front of the brochures for the house that have a picture of Allura and Lance in the corner declaring that they’re the ones representing this home.

“Yeah,” Shiro laughs, “oh.”

“Do you want a cookie?” Keith tries to diffuse the situation with the only way he currently knows how and thrusts the baking sheet still in his oven mitt covered hands at Shiro.

“Do I have to kiss the cook to get it?” Shiro asks.

Keith knows his face is already a little red from the heat of the oven, but he’s sure that right now it’s on fucking fire. 

“Uh…” is all he can dumbly get out, and then Shiro’s face also takes up the same shade of red over having truly used that line. 

Thankfully—and this is the only time Keith will be thankful for this happening—an elderly couple walks into the kitchen asking about Team Blue, and Keith turns away from Shiro to provide them with the usual spiel and smile he had been dishing out at every disappointed mention of Allura and Lance. Keith thinks that his colleagues don’t even deserve him saving them because they were so quick to betray him. 

A few more people mill through the kitchen and speak with Keith as he continues to serve cookies all while Shiro takes up residence in the corner of the— _ honestly— _ breakfast nook that’s part of kitchen space. Out of the corner of his eye, as he hands someone his business card, Keith can see Shiro standing with arms crossed and a cookie in hand that he’d managed to swipe before the first intrusion of their conversation. Keith likes that Shiro is sticking around him but also wishes the man would just leave and allow his arms in a tight NASA t-shirt to go look at some other part of the house just for a few minutes. 

Once it’s just the two of them in the kitchen again, Shiro moves forward and takes the spoon Keith had been using to place cookie dough onto the baking sheet. 

“Let me make up for earlier, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that,” Shiro explains when Keith gives him a confused look. “I’ll make the cookies, you work the crowd.” 

Shiro gives Keith a timid smile and also motions for Keith to hand over the apron, which he gladly does. Now the tables are turned and, yeah, Keith does want to maybe kiss the cook. Just a little bit. 

For the remainder of the open house, Keith walks through the home and talks to the people visiting, feeling better that he’s not confined to the kitchen and waiting for them to come by. The smell of cookies and the steady stream of them on the platter continues with Shiro assisting. It’s a nice feeling, Keith has to admit to himself. 

“Did you hire someone to bake the cookies?” a man asks delightedly, looking Shiro up and down as Keith returns to the kitchen. 

“No, just helping a friend,” Shiro smiles at the man and holds out the tray of cookies. 

“Hmm, good friend,” the man gives a knowing look to the both of them and then when neither of them reacts he deflates. “Wait, really? But—the way you looked at each other...oh my god…” he trails off and just pats Keith on the shoulder in a way that very much feels like  _ bless your hearts. _

If Shiro understands what the man was saying, he doesn’t display it as he goes back to dolloping more dough onto the baking sheet. Keith does think the tips of Shiro’s ears are tinted with a hint of red, but he doesn’t contemplate too long on it as he resumes mingling with the crowd. 

After the last viewer leaves, Keith offers as many thanks as possible as he goes to remove the sign in the yard and lock the door behind him to go clean up inside. He does a sweep of the rooms to make sure everything in the staged furniture still looks in place and orderly before taking a deep breath and returning to the kitchen. 

Shiro has divested himself of the apron and already made headway on cleaning the kitchen. The remaining cookies are piled on the platter and the unused cookie dough is sealed back up tight in its containers. At the sink, Shiro runs the baking sheet under water and ineffectively is trying to use a paper towel with dish soap on it to try and scrape off the bits of cookie that stuck. For a moment, Keith understands why Allura places Lance in the kitchen to bake during open houses; it creates quite the domestic scene. Sighing, Keith leans on his elbows at the raised bar area of the counter and watches Shiro continue to struggle with the last stubborn burnt bit.

“I’ll make Allura and Lance clean it, it’s fine,” Keith insists in order to make Shiro just stop and look at him.

Shiro’s shoulders slump a little, and he admits defeat by turning off the sink and looking up at Keith.

“Thanks for your help today,” Keith says softly with a true smile of thankfulness on his face. There was no reason for Shiro to stay and help, yet here he is.

“It’s no problem,” Shiro shrugs. “Might as well help where I can.”

Shiro didn’t leave much to be cleaned, and they moved about the kitchen in a silence that Keith couldn’t decide whether it was comfortable or not. He thought after the last round of showings he was having some success with Shiro, but today seems to have thrown an obstacle in an already crack filled road. 

After finally cleaning everything up, they’re standing in the driveway with their cars, lingering in each others presence as they keep doing a back and forth.

“Thanks for helping.”

“It was nothing.”

“No, you didn’t have to.”

“It’s really fine,” there’s a laugh.

“Yeah, but—”

“ _ Keith.” _

And that manages to stop Keith from saying anything else to the other man. They stare at each other, neither of them daring to break the barrier and say add something additional, but Keith gives in first.

“Honestly, thank you, and I’ll be in touch about another showing soon, okay?” Keith offers, trying to express his genuine gratitude through a soft tone of voice.

“My pleasure,” and the slow smile that unfurls on his face makes Keith think  _ oh, I’m so fucking far gone. _

\-----

To say Shiro was disappointed that over a week had passed since he helped at the open house with Keith and their communication had been only been brief texts attempting to unsuccessfully meet up for more showings would be underselling his emotions, but Shiro would deny that. He was still grappling to admit to himself that he actually liked his real estate agent, he had a  _ crush _ on him, and Shiro was fairly sure that the feeling was mutual. But, still, he didn’t want to think too much into it.

After the open house, he really thought that they’d see each other within the week, but Keith apparently had taken on more clients at Altea, loading up his schedule, and Shiro was overseeing the start of a new project that threw some of his office hours into disarray. They had tried to find time for what Keith had lined up next, but it just never worked out. 

“Want to tell me why you keep moping?” Matt asks Shiro as they walk out of a meeting. “Or why you keep checking your phone lately?” Matt adds with an arched brow when Shiro immediately pulls his phone out of the inside pocket of his blazer after leaving the boardroom.

“There’s no reason,” Shiro shrugs after seeing no messages from Keith and slipping the phone back into his pocket.

“Sure,” Matt sounds skeptical and continues to walk along with Shiro, clearly intending to follow him back to his office.

Matt and Shiro were hired at the same time at Garrison with their friendship starting after deciding to go get drunk following their first week on the job as a means of relieving the constant I-want-to-die stress of being a new employee at the company. So, Shiro no longer even tries to fight Matt, who has now become one of his closest friends years later, when he demands information on his life.

Once they’re in the safety of Shiro’s office and the door closes, Shiro sits down at his desk with a sigh, leaning forward on the desk and putting his head in his hands, face looking at the shining mahogany surface but keeping his eyes closed.

“I like my real estate agent,” he mumbles out.

“I’m sorry?” Matt barely masks the laugh when he asks.

“I  _ like _ like my real estate agent, okay, happy?” Shiro responds, petulant, opening his eyes to glare up at Matt.

“Somehow I didn’t think this moment could be more unfortunate, but then you, a grown man, a six-figure salaryman, used the phrase  _ like like, _ ” Matt cackles.

“I didn’t want to use the word crush.”

“I would have liked you to.”

Shiro scowls and swivels in his seat away from Matt to try and pretend like he has something very important to attend to on his computer, but when he moves his mouse, the screen wakes up to reveal the page of current listings by Altea Realty.

“Oh,” Matt says, clearly having seen Shiro’s shame. And because it’s Matt, he, too, has no shame sometimes or sense of boundaries as he walks around the desk and stands behind Shiro’s desk, leaning over the back of Shiro’s chair to look at the website.

“What are you doing,” Shiro groans as Matt reaches to take the mouse out of his hand.

“Just looking,” Matt says, clicking around the site until he finds the  _ Meet Our Realtors _ page.

Shiro watches in a mix of horror and humiliation as Matt finds Keith’s photo and bio—which he may already have memorized but he won’t admit it—and pauses.

“So this is him, huh, Keith?” it’s supposed to be a question, but Matt makes it sound more like a statement.

“How do you know?” Shiro gestures at the screen. “How do you know it’s not that guy Lance?”

Matt snorts. “You mean Mr. Hetereosexual of the Month? Please.”

“I thought that was your title?” Shiro says with a smile leaning back in the chair. Matt rewards him with a smack against the back of his head.

“Focus, Shirogane.”

“On what?” Shiro pushes back, and between his size over Matt and the chair, it forces his friend to move away from the computer so he trudges out of Shiro’s space.

“Focus less on moping and more on making moves on this guy,” Matt smiles as if very pleased with his wording.

“I’m his client, it would be unprofessional,” Shiro shakes his head.

“Please, like that matters here,” Matt rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. “Also, I like that’s your excuse and not that he doesn’t like you. You’re telling me he’s into you, too?”

“I—” Shiro struggles to add anything but the silence is enough for Matt to make his conclusions.

“Nice,” Matt adds in his best impression of a bro, but also, that’s kind of just him.

“Please, I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” Shiro wheezes, resuming his earlier position of head-in-hands on the desk.

“You’re only getting free from this right now because I have another meeting in five minutes, but hey, Shiro,” Matt says and Shiro looks up at him. “I won’t forget,” he says this while walking back towards the door, right hand making an  _ I’m watching you _ gesture.

Shiro sighs and tries to get himself back into the process of actually working and focusing, but he can’t help drifting over to see if any new messages that light up his phone are from Keith. Finally, after he’s managed to make the last part of his day useful, he’s snapped out of his concentration by the sound of his phone vibrating on his desk. Keith’s name flashes across the screen, and Shiro scrambles to swipe and pick up.

“Keith?” Shiro doesn’t mean to answer with a surprise, but he can’t hide it.

“Hey, are you busy tonight?” Keith sounds out of breath as he jumps straight into the conversation.

“No,” Shiro replies right away, not even looking at his calendar to make sure.

“Awesome, then I have something to make up for your helping with the open house.”

“Keith,” Shiro says with a huff, “really, I was glad to help.”

“No, no, this is good— _ Lance,  _ here take this—sorry about that, helping with another open house with Lance and Allura, but, you can come to this one and not work.”

“Why are you so excited about an open house?” Shiro’s confusion makes him frown into the phone.

“Because it’s a luxury open house!” Keith yells, his loud volume making the answer grating and tinny over the phone.

“Luxury?” Shiro jumps at the harsh sound from the phone and asks.

“Yeah,” Keith starts to explain. “Allura and Lance are listing this multi-million dollar house on a hill that has a view of the city, so it’s an evening open house that’s really just a party for prospective buyers. It’s invite only, but I can get you in.” He says the last part in a surprisingly smug voice.

“Well, how could I say no to that,” Shiro chuckles.

“Good,” Keith laughs as well, and Shiro soaks up the sound. “I’ll pick you up at work in like an hour?”

“What is my car not good enough to drive there myself?” Shiro asks since Keith has definitely seen Shiro’s gleaming Mercedes GL on multiple occasions now.

“Yeah, it’s good,” Shiro can hear the smile that’s sprawling across Keith’s face over the phone. “But I have something better.”

\-----

Shiro lets out a low whistle as he walks up to where Keith parked. Keith tries to keep his expression neutral and casual, but he feels thrilled to have Shiro praise the bike, as Keith feels like it’s an extension of himself at times. His pride and joy, a classic Honda motorcycle that gleams like it came fresh from the factory just a day ago. All Keith’s spare time and expendable funds went into getting his baby to where it is today, which is in front of one very expensive high-rise building being admired by a crisply dressed Shiro.

“Is this the bike you told me about?” Shiro asks, walking around the bike. Keith is still seated on it and pulls his helmet off. Shiro’s slow stalk appraising the bike also feels like he’s checking out Keith. “It looks good.”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” Keith’s cheeks heat as he hands the spare helmet to Shiro and feels satisfied to see high cheekbones gain a dull pink as well.

Shiro laughs, taking the helmet, “I thought this was only for closing day?”

“What can I say,” Keith leans on the handles, “you’re special.”

Raising an eyebrow, Shiro doesn’t comment and puts on the helmet. Keith’s breath catches at the sight. Shiro has on well-tailored black pants with a dark grey button-up tucked in. A black tie and blazer finish out the look, but the addition of the silver helmet  _ does _ something to Keith and he feels heat bloom within him. Maybe this was a terrible idea because now more than ever he wants Shiro.

The feeling is made a hundred times worse when Shiro climbs on behind Keith and wraps his arms around him.

“Hold tight,” Keith says, voice unexpectedly low. He pulls on his helmet and starts up the bike to set them off into the night. 

Keith drives with precision through the streets of the city until they hit the winding roads that curve and twirl through treed hills into the area where the wealthiest of the city lives and overlook the lights below them. Houses are spaced far apart and tucked away behind ornate gates. In this area, Keith lets the full ability of his bike shine as he speeds up and up, and Shiro holds on tighter and tighter. 

Making the final turn, Keith slows down to go through the open gates and waves to the guard who’s checking invitations for the open house. After they come to a stop and park, Shiro unwraps himself from Keith, which is a shame and gets off the bike. Keith assumes he’ll be shaky on his legs as people often are after riding with Keith on the bike, but instead he’s quick to straighten up and take off his helmet. Shiro pulls his clothes back in place and runs a hand through his hair, unflattening his bangs before Keith even dismounts the bike.

“That wasn’t too much for you, huh?” Keith asks as he swings his leg over the bike, and he catches Shiro watching the line Keith’s body makes as it moves.

“I know my way around a bike,” Shiro’s eyes aren’t on Keith’s face when he says this, which he seems to realize quickly. He coughs and moves his gaze to meet Keith’s eyes.

“Hmm,” Keith starts contemplatively, “maybe when we close on your house, you’ll drive.”

“Yeah?” it’s said darkly with a gleam in his eyes.

They linger looking at each other before Keith snaps out of it to take the helmet from Shiro’s hand and makes sure his own clothes are fixed before they go into the open house. Keith is dressed similar to Shiro, black pants and blazer, but his shirt is red and he skipped a tie. 

Keith leads them into the house, which is massive. Lance’s playlist is playing throughout the intercom system that the hillside mansion has and people dressed in their best are scattered through the first floor with champagne flutes in their hands and occasionally plucking hors d'oeuvres as a plate passes by in the white-gloved hands of a server. Keith always was loathed to admit that when it came to these luxury open houses, Lance and Allura knew what to do. Allura brought the proper touches of high-end class needed to impress the people they’re trying to sell the house to, and Lance added the party elements that gave potential buyers an idea of the lavish lifestyle they could lead in the house. 

The interior of the home was all sleek modern lines with black, white, and cream tones dominating all the decor. It was both a blank canvas but also  _ Architecture Digest _ ready. 

“This would definitely be too much for me,” Shiro states as he looks around the main living room they’ve stepped into from the foyer.

“It’s also out of your budget,” Keith adds smugly. Frankly, not much was out of his budget, but what was always got listed by Allura and Lance at the agency.

Shiro makes a contemplative sound at the information and catches a server in time to grab two glasses of champagne, handing one to Keith.

“To finding you a home,” Keith says raising his glass to Shiro.

“To you finding me a home,” Shiro replies, tilting his head towards Keith as their glasses gently clink before they both take drinks.

Keith and Shiro wander the house together, and it’s easy. Keith feels comfortable as they walk close, mouths leaning into each other's ears to comment about some over-the-top feature in the house or about some of the attendees. All of this was done with a near constant stream of champagne in their hands.

They eventually walk into the kitchen where Allura and Lance are standing side by side, looking striking together. Lance has on a light grey suit with a blue shirt with the first few buttons open, and next to him Allura has a shimmery flowing dress that looks both silver and blue depending on how she moves. Lance is playing bartender while talking to guests, and he spots Keith.

“My favorite colleague, Keith!” he yells, holding up the bottle of Belvedere he had just been pouring.

Keith grabs Shiro’s sleeve and tugs him through the crowd towards Lance and Allura. Before Keith has the opportunity to introduce Shiro to the other two, he takes initiative himself. 

“Nice to finally meet you, Lance, I’m Shiro,” he holds out his hand. “Thanks for inviting me to another open house.”

Lance has the humility enough to look slightly sheepish before shaking Shiro’s hand and also greeting the other man. 

“A pleasure to meet you,” Allura introduces herself to Shiro in between talking to a couple that looks very young money.

“So, what do you think?” Lance asks Keith as he resumes mixing drinks.

“I hate admitting it, but you two really know how to put these on,” Keith begrudgingly admits and the smile that breaks out across Lance’s face makes Keith wish he had just given a neutral response.

“And what about you, Shiro?” Lance hands the drink he just made to Shiro, who looks examines the glass when taking it.

“I’ve never been to a luxury open house before, but I agree with Keith, this is very nice,” Shiro takes a tentative sip of the drink and flinches. “A little heavy handed here, were you?” he adds.

“Was I?” Lance has a twinkle in his eye that Keith absolutely does not trust, but he takes the blue drink Lance also sticks in his direction. “Well, have fun, boys, duty calls here.” He gives a wink and leans back over the counter to also get into the conversation with Young Money Couple that Allura is talking to.

“Want to go outside?” Keith asks, and, yes, Lance definitely used a deft hand while pouring these. 

Keith already knows the house well from helping set up for the open house, so he guides them through the floor to get to the large glass sliding doors that open up to the backyard that overlooks the city below. At one point during the short walk, Keith does manage to almost knock into a guest, but Shiro is swift to put a hand on the small of his back and guide him away from the incident. His hand moves away quickly after, but Keith feels like he can still sense that heavy heat there. It’s similar to the ghost of the feeling of Shiro’s arms around him on the bike.

The sun is starting to set, covering the sky in oranges and purples that from this vantage point also paint the city below, and people milling about outside admiring the view. There’s a large concrete deck with a covered outdoor kitchen and living room. A pool sits in the middle of the backyard, and it has colored lights that are slowly blinking from it in the corners. Keith thinks it’s bold to keep a pool uncovered during an open house when alcohol is involved, but who is he assume.

There’s a small gazebo also in the yard, which is just the last thing to set this house over the top, and it’s presently unoccupied. Keith walks in its direction and Shiro follows, and he doesn’t take a seat across from him inside but right next to him with a few inches in between the two men.

“This has been something,” Shiro muses as he swirls his drink while looking down in it. He takes a drink and then leans forward, elbows resting on his legs and the glass held between the thumb and middle finger of his right hand. The light from the sunset turns the blue drink and odd color of purple that glints off the polished metal of Shiro’s arm.

“Yeah,” Keith leans back and appreciates the slope of Shiro’s neck and back. “Team Blue, they know how to move a house.” He pauses. “Not move, you can’t move houses...unless it’s a mobile home or RV, I guess—”

“Keith,” Shiro laughs, and it’s a gentle sound that hangs in the air like a breeze before flitting away. “I know what you mean.”

“I’m sorry,” Keith blurts out before he can stop himself.

“What?” Shiro turns his head to look at Keith, but he’s still leaning forward. Keith hates it because there are so many sharp slopes and lines to Shiro and they’re all awfully distracting at this angle. All he can think of is gliding his lips and tongue across each plane of Shiro’s body, but Keith can’t do that right now as Shiro looks at him expectedly.

“I’m sorry that I sucked at being a real estate agent,” Keith starts. “I’m sorry I made you look at houses that upset you. I’m sorry I still haven’t found you a house and it’s been a month. I’m sorry that—”

“Keith,” Shiro cuts him off again. “You already apologized, and honestly, it’s okay. I trust you, that’s why I’m still looking for houses with you.”

Two parts of the statement make Keith’s stomach flip. One, Shiro trusts Keith even though Keith feels like he’s done very little to be afforded that privilege. Second, the way Shiro said it,  _ I’m still looking for houses with you, _ makes it sound like they’re trying to find a house together as in live together. Maybe it’s the alcohol or the fact they’re sitting in a fucking gazebo at sunset, but it makes Keith feel wistful even though there’s no reason he should already be thinking that far ahead of life with Shiro. Hell, he doesn’t know if they’ll even have anything beyond agent-client relationship after a house is found and closed.

“You’re too nice,” Keith grumbles and takes a drink. 

Shiro laughs, and it’s warm. “Maybe.” He straightens up and leans back into the seat, shifting a little and closing more of the distance between the two.

They sit there in silence and watch the sun go down, and it’s nice and comfortable. Keith doesn’t feel like the silence hanging between them needs to be filled. It’s just the two of them watching the sky change colors as the open house keeps going on, music turning up inside making the final turn from a professional event to a full-on party.

“How long is this supposed to go on?” Shiro finally asks Keith.

“A few more hours, I think, but they stop serving alcohol soon,” Keith responds, and when he turns to look at Shiro, the other man’s face is turned to the sky where the moon is becoming visible behind a cloud. His eyes glow.

“Want to go back inside?” Shiro asks.

“No.”

And Keith doesn’t know what propels him to do it in that very moment, but maybe it’s the way that everything about Shiro seems to shimmer in the night. Maybe it’s the fact Shiro has become one of the less than a handful of people he genuinely feels at ease around even though they’ve had such a short time knowing each other. Maybe, maybe, it could be anything, but Keith’s wanting and shifts over to cup Shiro’s head in his hand and move him so they’re looking at each other. 

“Oh,” Shiro breathes out.

Keith pulls him in, and their lips meet gently at first, a slight brush. Both their eyes are still open and they search each other out, uncertain, but then Shiro moves in again and presses a slightly harder kiss on Keith’s mouth. That’s it for Keith. His eyes drift closed, and he leans further into Shiro. They keep the pace going until Shiro swipes his tongue across Keith’s bottom lip making him gasp, his parted mouth allowing Shiro to dip inside. Shiro’s arms haul Keith onto his lap, and they both let out moans at the contact.

Shiro’s left-hand trails up Keith’s side, over his chest, and then settles to hold Keith’s neck. His hand is wide, the thumb rubbing up and down while the other fingers twirl in dark hair. It’s  _ good, _ and Keith needs more, but it can’t be here.

Pulling back with reluctance, Keith puts a hand on Shiro’s chest to prevent him from following. 

“Not here,” he says, and Shiro’s blown eyes go from concerned to dark. 

“Okay,” is the simple reply as he tightens the hold around Keith’s waist and lifts him up and onto his feet. The swift movement leaves Keith dazed momentarily, but he recovers quickly to steady himself and takes Shiro’s hand to lead him back into the house.

He avoids Lance and Allura, who are both still working the crowd trying to discern who among the attendees might actually want to buy the house. That might be useless at this point since most people seem to be pleasantly buzzed as they continue to admire the home.

Because it is an open house still, people are everywhere, but Keith is focused in on finding a place for Shiro and him to be alone. He doesn’t pay any attention to the guests they go past as Keith weaves them through the house. On the second floor there is a small half bathroom, which Keith thinks makes no sense for there to be a half bathroom on the second floor, but right now that’s the location on his mind as they go up the modern steel and glass staircase. 

The people who make it up to the second floor are generally those more interested in the actual house rather than the party aspect of a luxury open house, so the space upstairs is less crowded. Keith silently thanks the stars that no one is in the back corner of the floor past the last bedroom, home theater, and wall of closet space where the half bathroom is located. 

As soon as Keith closes the door, Shiro crowds Keith back against it.

“I think about you so much,” Shiro leans to whisper in his ear and runs his hands up and down Keith’s sides. Shiro’s hands are big and warm, and he needs them everywhere. 

Keith responds by throwing an arm around Shiro’s neck and hauling him down into a kiss with the intensity he wished they could have gotten to while in the backyard but wasn’t befitting a public space.

They’re covered in darkness with light coming in filtered from a small frosted glass window, a diluted glow of nighttime lights. If this is happening, Keith needs to see it. Without breaking away from Shiro, Keith blindly removes one hand from its place on one of Shiro’s firm pecs to hit at the wall until he makes contact with the light switch and throws it on. Keith attempts to back off the kiss in order to look at Shiro, but the other man seems to be having none of that and settles a hand on the back of Keith’s neck, keeping him in place. Keith doesn’t protest, he’s quickly finding that one of his new favorite places in the world is pressed against a surface while getting kissed by Shiro. 

Eventually, Shiro does move off Keith’s lips in favor of trailing his mouth across Keith’s cheek, to his jaw, and then settles on his neck where he starts working a mark into Keith’s skin. Shiro hums in satisfaction when he pulls away, clearly pleased with whatever is now blooming on Keith’s soft skin. The two take a moment then to finally just gaze at each other. Keith’s arms settle on Shiro’s shoulders as a hand works through Shiro’s hair, making his eyes flutter as Keith’s fingers glide through white locks. 

“Hey,” that’s all Keith can think to say.

Shiro’s eyes slowly open fully from where they’d been lulled closed by Keith’s ministrations. As he looks into Keith’s eyes, a slow as honey smile spreads across his face, and it makes Keith’s stomach swoop. Keith  _ needs  _ this man right now, badly.

“Keith,” Shiro says his name, and even though it’s heard it in Shiro’s voice before, the low and breathy way it’s said this time makes Keith feel like he’s just been shattered and the only way to put himself back together again is for Shiro to really take him apart in this red damask wallpapered half bathroom.

His need must be present on his face because Shiro’s expression drops from warm and hazy to sharp and needing. The change sends a shiver down Keith’s spine. Shiro captures Keith’s mouth again, and this time it’s rougher and dirtier. This time it’s sharp bites to Keith’s bottom lip and a pull before diving back in to slowly, slowly glide their tongues together. One of Shiro’s hands starts to slide its way up from where it was clutching Keith’s side, and it stops on Keith’s chest. Keith loses his breath for a moment at the feeling how broad Shiro’s hand is across his collarbones. The metal hand pushes firmly at Keith’s lower back, pressing him into Shiro, and both of them can feel how hard they are with loud moans into each other's mouths.

The move happens so fast that Keith barely has time to dwell on feeling dazed by it. Shiro uses the holds he has on Keith’s body to turn him around and bend his body over the bathroom counter. Keith closes his eyes and lowers his head because he knows if he looks up he’ll have to face what he looks like right now—what Shiro looks like—and he doesn’t think he can handle that at the moment.

“Shiro,” Keith whines, squeezing his eyes closed tighter as he feels the hand on his chest move up to cup his face. “Come on.” And Keith’s not even sure what he’s asking for.

“I’ve got you,” Shiro murmurs into Keith’s ear, giving him a full-body shudder.

Keith’s knuckles are undoubtedly turning white from the death grip he’s maintaining on the counter. His breath stutters when Shiro undoes his pants and places a kiss on the top of Keith’s head, a much gentler gesture than what feels right.

“Is this okay?” Shiro asks.

“God, yes,” Keith breathes out in confirmation before Shiro shoves everything down to Keith’s knees. Shiro’s right hand warmed as it worked over Keith’s body, and it feels like relief as Shiro takes Keith in it, just a few slow strokes that make Keith push back onto Shiro. He grinds back as Shiro works his length, both of them letting out small moans and whines.

Keith takes one of his hands off the counter and reaches behind him to grab at the button on Shiro’s pants. “You, too.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Shiro sounds dazed, which boosts Keith’s ego and arousal.

The first moment Keith feels Shiro’s hardness pressed behind him without layers of clothing separating them causes Keith to let out the loudest sound he’s made so far. He feels self-conscious immediately after at how much such a relatively tame act made him cry out. Reaching back again, Keith takes Shiro into his hand and decides to look up into the mirror. 

Keith is flushed red, a bright, fresh bruise from Shiro’s mouth is on his neck, and his hair is sticking up in a thousand different ways. Behind him, Shiro’s gaze is down where Keith is bent over and his hand is on Shiro. Keith keeps his eyes on the mirror as he pulls at Shiro to settle between his thighs.

“Fuck,” Shiro sighs as he realizes what Keith is asking of him. “ _ Baby _ , fuck.”

“Shiro, I need you to move,” Keith grasps Shiro’s hip now and tries to get him to do something. Shiro bats the hand away and takes hold of both of Keith’s hips, and Keith bends over further on the counter, trying not to allow a hand slip into the sink and lets his head drop down again.

Then the small bathroom is filled with sounds of their panting and groans mixed with declarations of how good the other feels. Keith squeezes his thighs tighter and feels himself grow hotter at the way Shiro moans out his name. 

“So good,” Keith sighs as he starts to also work more to meet Shiro’s thrusts between his legs.

Shiro lets out a whine and rests his forehead on the back of Keith’s neck, panting hard. Keith removes his left hand from its death grip on the edge of the counter and moves it back to grab the long parts of Shiro’s hair and force his head to turn and look him in the eyes. Hooded grey eyes stare back at Keith, completely wrecked, and Keith holds their eye contact as Shiro continues gliding between Keith’s thighs. 

“Fuck,” Shiro breathes out on a thrust in, and he strains in Keith’s hold to messily kiss him. It’s not graceful, just desperate and wet. His hair is still held tight in Keith’s fingers, and Shiro moans into Keith’s mouth when those fingers pull. “You feel so good, Keith.”

Keith gives another harsh tug, dragging their mouths apart and whispers, “Next time you’ll be inside me.”

Shiro  _ growls _ at that and gives a hard thrust between Keith’s thighs. It’s rough and harsh, and Keith’s hold on the edge of the counter slips. He quickly throws a hand out to catch his forward momentum, and it slaps against the mirror, hard. The sound of the impact makes Shiro snap his gaze to the mirror. His movement slows to leisurely roll his hips, a slow slide. His right hand once again resumes stroking Keith, so Keith fucks into Shiro’s fist with each of his forward thrusts.

This is what he needed the second he felt Shiro’s arms around him on the bike as they made their way to the party however long ago now that was. Shiro keeps eye contact with Keith in the mirror, and Keith wouldn’t look away now for anything. The house could start crumbling around them right now, and Keith would look into the mirror until the last possible second.

Keith comes first, Shiro’s name on his lips, and Shiro follows quickly after, letting out more groans of  _ fuck  _ with Keith’s name. 

Slumping over the counter, Keith feels himself go boneless, and Shiro puts an arm around him to keep him up as he also leans into him. They breathe hard for a few minutes before Keith starts to shift around. As much as he loves the aspect of being gently crushed under Shiro, they aren’t in the most comfortable place to do so.

When Keith turns around from the sink, Shiro swoops him into a kiss that’s soft and calming, and Keith lets out a pleased sound and pushes Shiro back.

“As much as I would love to stay here, we actually can’t,” Keith laughs at Shiro’s pout.

“What if I just buy the house,” Shiro says and he pulls Keith back into a quick kiss. “Then we wouldn’t have to leave. Stay in this bathroom forever.”

“Half bathroom,” Keith corrects, looking into Shiro’s eyes with their faces still close. “Really, here, forever? This house?”

“If you’re here, yeah,” Shiro says it quietly and rubs their noses together making Keith laugh again.

“I don’t think this house is what you need.”

“You know what I need, baby?”

Keith heats at the statement and contemplates where this Shiro was hiding as he fumbled through asking if Keith’s parents would like the balcony in that first house they looked at.

“Maybe,” Keith smiles. “Actually, I do have a showing for you tomorrow...if you want.”

“It’s a date,” they both laugh as Shiro kisses Keith’s cheek.

\-----

Shiro replays the night before with a smile on his face as he follows his GPS to where Keith was going to be showing him a house that day. The two of them had eventually extricated themselves from the bathroom after cleaning up, which was convenient given their location. By that point, most of the open house was winding down, and even though they tried to straighten up as much as possible, the squint in Lance’s eyes as Allura and he waved goodbye to them made Shiro certain that he knew what happened. 

Keith had driven Shiro back to his apartment, and this time, Shiro let his hands wander a bit more where they were wrapped around the other man’s torso, which awarded Shiro with a few threatening smacks at red lights. They had kissed a little heavier than probably acceptable for the public once Keith dropped him off and made their plans for today’s viewing.

The houses in the neighborhood Shiro was navigating ranged in all sizes and ages, and all of them sat on decent amounts of land, which means optimal dog-running-around space. Some houses looked newly built and some looked as if they might have been on the land since the beginning of time. The variety of homes intrigued Shiro, and he was fairly pleased that this area was only a 20-minute drive from his office. 

Stopping in front of the house as the GPS voice says he’s reached his destination, a familiar feeling washes over Shiro. The house he’s looking at is not at all what he was expecting, much like the very first day he went to a viewing with Keith, but this time it was not that the house was too much but this time it seemed to, not quite little, but rather, lacking.

Keith stands rocking back and forth on his heels in the driveway and watches Shiro get out of his car and approach him. A nervous half-smile on Keith’s face makes Shiro fill with fondness, and he can’t help but lean down and place a kiss on the side of Keith’s lips that are quirked up.

“Hi,” Keith blinks slowly and smiles as he greets Shiro.

“Hey,” Shiro runs his thumb across Keith’s cheek. “So, this house, huh?” He doesn’t look away from Keith’s face as he says this.

The statement breaks Keith out of his enamored expression. “Oh, yeah, okay, bare with me again, okay?”

“Sure.”

“You trust me?”

“Of course.”

It feels like a heavy admission, and Keith slips his hand into Shiro’s and tugs him towards the entrance.

The house is old and far removed from its better days. The ranch style home exterior possesses the unfortunate combination of white vinyl siding for the top floor and brick for the lower floor, and there’s what appears to be an annexed room on the left that’s a completely different shade of cream siding. Shiro grimaces at the clashing teal shutters around the windows.

“I hope the inside is better,” Shiro mutters as Keith unlocks the door.

“Oh, it’s not,” Keith turns to Shiro with a smile and gestures him inside.

Shiro has a lot of questions when he walks into the house, and the first is just  _ why. _ The carpets are all a chocolate brown with dark wooden crown molding on the walls. The entry area is small with the staircase to the basement and second floor immediately on the left side. Beyond the stairs, the left side of the house is one large open area with the kitchen, dining room, and living room. It’s a pity that anyone has to sit in the latter two spaces and look at the kitchen since its dated appliances are falling apart and the linoleum countertops feature a variety of questionable stains and burns. 

“Is this...yellow tile?” Shiro worries about the answer while looking down at the kitchen floor.

“I wish I could answer that truthfully,” Keith sighs, “but I don’t think it was this color when installed.”

“Oh, god.”

When Keith leads Shiro to the door off of the space into the annex room, there’s a little bit too much of a bounce to his step.

“Keith, what’s in the room?” Shiro stops a few feet away from the door.

“It’s just a hobby room,” Keith says with a wave of his hand.

“I don’t like the sound of that,” Shiro sighs following Keith inside. It would be too wild to assume that someone left their BDSM dungeon open for house viewings.

Shiro wishes it was a dungeon. Well, it might as well be.

“No…” Shiro stares around the taxidermied animals staring down at them from all corners of the room. 

Keith nods solemnly. “The owner is a hunter and added this room to display their trophies.

“I feel like I’ll need to exorcize it of animal demons.”

“Didn’t know you were scared of ghosts,” Keith laughs and knocks his shoulder with Shiro’s. Taking advantage of the proximity, Shiro grabs Keith and wraps him in his arms, pulling him close, back-to-chest.

“Not if you’re here to protect me?” Shiro laughs into Keith’s ear and hugs him tighter.

“Yeah?” Keith responds, breathless, his eyes crinkled at the corners with a smile.

“My hero,” Shiro tips Keith’s head back with his thumb and forefinger on the other man’s chin and brings their mouths together. They stay like that for a while, eyes closed, swaying slightly, with only dead animals as their witnesses, until they break apart to go back to looking at the house.

The bathroom serves as education for Shiro that, yes, you can completely decorate a room in one single color from floor to ceiling if you dedicate yourself to lime green tile. Two less offensive but still pitiful bedrooms are on the other side of the house. The basement was still unfinished, so they only gave a brief look through of it before going up to the second floor, which kept the underwhelming theme of the rest of the house going with its master suite and additional bedrooms and bathrooms.

“And there’s an unnecessary half bathroom up here, too,” Keith rolls his eyes when he turns on the light to look into the small room. “But it could easily be taken out.”

“Taken out?” Shiro asks.

“You don’t think I seriously showed this to you to live in as-is, right?” Keith’s eyebrows raise. They’re standing together in the small hallway space outside one of the bedrooms and the half-bath, its yellow light backlighting Keith in the dark area. 

“I mean, I guess I didn’t think otherwise?” Shiro admits with a shrug.

“Shiro,” Keith’s voice is serious, “I’m showing you this as a house to remodel.”

“Oh,” slow realization dawns on Shiro, and he wonders how he could ever have been so completely dense.

“Oh,” Keith deadpans back.

Shiro stands there as Keith slowly shifts to put his arms around Shiro’s shoulders and look up into his eyes. “This house costs about a tenth of your budget, and you could completely do what you want to it.” He trails off for a moment. “I kept showing you houses that felt...wrong. So, I thought, maybe you need something to grow into. Something to make your own.”

“To make my own with someone?” Shiro asks tentatively, hoping he’s not rushing, but it feels so right.

The shock on Keith’s face turns it red, and he tucks his head into Shiro’s chest. “Yeah, someone.”

“What do you think of this place?” Shiro leans back onto the wall behind him and pulls Keith in close.

“It’s one of the most adaptable houses to remodel that I saw, and it has a good location. Plus, lots of room for a dog to run around,” Keith adds the last part with a laugh, his face is in the crook of Shiro’s neck and the words skate across his skin. 

“Then I’ll take it,” Shiro decides. 

“Really?” Keith pulls back from Shiro. “I thought it would be a good first one to show for possible remodels, but, you don’t want to see anything else?”

“I think I’ve seen enough,” Shiro thinks about the point when his house hunt probably became less looking at homes and more his own excitement to see Keith. “I think I found what I’m looking for.” His gaze on Keith is pointed, meaningful with intent.

“Okay,” Keith says it quietly and then leans up to brush a kiss across Shiro’s cheek. “I’ll work on putting in an offer today.”

Shiro brings a hand up to card his fingers through Keith’s hair and watches the other man’s eyes flutter closed and hum. He looks around the tight space of the hall and imagines it opened up and bright, sun streaming in on a weekend morning. He thinks about a new garage that could hold two cars and space for a motorcycle or two. 

Maybe he’s thinking too far ahead and rushing in too fast, but if there’s a time for him to barrel into his future, it feels like this is it. Shiro spent too long content with what he had, never imagining more or further. He could only look at what he had now and assume that would be it forever; he would look at what others had and think that was too far off for him, a dream. But right now in the ugliest house, he’s ever seen with the only person he thinks he could have a forever with, he’s standing on the threshold of something new.


	2. we made it our home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The house is purchased, and now Shiro has to navigate something even more frightening than the real estate market and renovation planning: meeting Keith's family and Keith meeting his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone is alive, happy, thriving, and domestic: the AU. Also, updated tags!
> 
> Thank you to my number one fan [Jade](https://twitter.com/tiedbows) for everything always and to everyone who kept yelling at me to finish this chapter.

Shiro vaguely remembers a saying about banging someone like a screen door during a storm as the aging screen door of his brand new home slams shut behind him, and he pushes his brand new boyfriend through the entryway. The house is only new in the sense that he just left the closing for it, but this relationship between Keith and he is fresh and bright, unlike the interiors of the house. 

“Careful,” Keith mutters, briefly pulling away from Shiro’s mouth and laughing. “You own this now.”

“Which means I can do what I want,” Shiro makes a sound that resembles a growl as he ends the statement, and it only makes Keith cling to him tighter. 

He keeps guiding Keith further into the house until they’re in the kitchen, and Shiro pushes him up onto the countertop of the center island. It’s been a little over a month since Shiro placed an offer on the house, negotiated down considerably by Keith’s prowess as a real estate agent, and now the keys are finally his. A real home. Well, a shell of a home until he completely remodels the thing. 

Keith runs his hands through Shiro’s hair, rubbing lightly with his thumbs at the shortest parts behind his ears. The action makes Shiro sigh, and he pushes apart Keith’s legs so he can situate himself between them. 

“And the first thing I want is to christen this place,” Shiro moves his mouth along Keith’s neck, a hand on his thigh squeezing with intent. 

“Hmm, and how do you plan on doing that?” Keith’s voice has that hint of mischief that Shiro’s gotten to know well over the weeks they’ve now spent together beyond the agent and client relationship. It’s a tone that tends to indicate good things for both of them. 

“How about I show you?” Shiro gives a quick nip to Keith’s neck and drops to his knees. Keith smirks knowingly at what Shiro has in mind. 

Shiro tries not to think about the tragedy of yellowed tile that he’s currently kneeling on when he undoes Keith’s pants, but he needn’t worry as the sight in front of him distracts from the offensive flooring immediately. He untucks Keith’s shirt and opens the lower buttons to expose smooth abs and places a kiss in the middle of them, which earns a small laugh from Keith. 

After some slight maneuvering, Shiro pulls Keith out from his pants. He keeps Keith in a loose grip as he leans forward to leave quick kisses and licks down the length before one long lick back to the tip following the vein on the bottom. Keith’s breath hitches, and he slides a hand into Shiro’s hair, letting the strands glide through his fingers as he gently pets Shiro. Flashing a quick smile at Keith, Shiro gives one more small kiss before taking Keith into his mouth, working slowly, bobbing his head and feeling Keith’s grip become firmer. When Keith hits the back of Shiro’s throat, the sound of a slap rings out in the room as Keith slams his hand down on the laminate countertop behind him in effort to not fall back. 

“God, you’re so good at this,” Keith whispers with a soft moan after Shiro hums, and Shiro heats further at the praise.

“Only this good for you,” Shiro says when he pulls off, voice already low and rough.

“Good boy,” Keith moves his hand from Shiro’s hair to his chin, thumb brushing Shiro’s bottom lip that he’s sure is shining a bright red right now. Keith gives a slight tug to Shiro’s chin, and he takes it as an indication to get back work on Keith.

They’ve spent enough time together since the luxury open house that Shiro has picked up on Keith’s sounds and reactions when they fuck. The change to quick breaths tells Shiro that Keith is about to come, but Shiro wants to draw this out, savor the first time in the house even if it’s in a kitchen that’s crying out to be renovated. It’s a good first memory of the space, Shiro thinks. 

Shiro backs off and resumes the chaste kisses along Keith, making him whine at the loss of being so close.

“Come on,” Keith tugs Shiro’s hair.

“Patience,” Shiro chuckles. The pout on Keith’s face is worth it, his cheeks tinged red.

Keith huffs and closes his eyes. “Fine.” 

“That’s the spirit,” Shiro smiles up at Keith even though he isn’t looking down at him and takes Keith into his mouth again, kneading the other’s thigh with a hand as he picks the pace back up. It doesn’t take long from there before the sharp breaths from Keith start up again, a hand clenching in Shiro’s hair, and a moan of his name the warning before he comes. Shiro groans around Keith’s twitching and gives the length a final lick for good measure. He pushes himself up from the floor, taking the time to give Keith’s thighs attention with kisses as well.

“I think the first thing to replace in the house is this floor,” Shiro brushes one knee of his pants and frowns down at the tile.

“What all do you want to do with the house? We haven’t really talked about that,” Keith raises an eyebrow while he hops off the counter to pull his pants up. “We kept being too busy,” he laughs, closing in on Shiro and palming him.

“Honestly?” Shiro starts but ducks down to kiss Keith, then gets distracted by the way the other man’s tongue dips inside his mouth.

“Honestly?” Keith pulls back with a flirty smile. Shiro blinks the haze out of his eyes and tries to remember what he had been saying.

“Uh, honestly, I haven’t put any thought into the remodel,” he admits with a shrug.

Keith places his hands on Shiro’s chest and gently pushes him back until he hits the wall of the hallway. “Nothing at all?” and his hand quickly works on Shiro’s pants and slips below the waistband. “I know a contractor you can use,” Keith informs him, leaning into Shiro’s neck to start working a mark there.

“Yeah,” Shiro breathes out, eyes closing and mind only partially in the conversation as Keith’s hand starts moving.

Keith hums in reply, the vibration against his pulse point making Shiro shiver. “My uncle,” he says this just barely moving his mouth from Shiro’s skin, and Keith’s lips graze the mark he so carefully placed there.

“Mmm, great, I’ll meet your uncle,” Shiro’s head thumps against the wall, and the hit to the head serves as the jolt that makes him process what he just said. “Wait, what?”

“You agreed to meet my uncle,” Keith leaves Shiro’s neck to look him in the eyes, hand still slowly moving inside Shiro’s pants.

“Wait—” Shiro tries to backtrack, but that’s when Keith chooses to fully pull Shiro out and start stroking him faster. All arguments that were trying to make their way from Shiro’s brain to his mouth get lost in the creation phase, and only gasps of Keith’s name make it out until he comes.

Keith leaves Shiro leaned against the wall as he walks over to the kitchen sink to turn it on and clean off his hand. Shiro attempts to regain his breath.

“Are you sure I should use your family to work for me?” Shiro asks, skeptical.

“You don’t have to,” Keith walks back over to him and pulls Shiro’s pants up, tucking him and his shirt back into place. “But he would be pretty pissed to know that his dear nephew’s boyfriend didn’t trust him for a remodel.” He says the last part with a pat to Shiro’s pants, and he’s still sensitive enough that even through the layers it makes him twitch.

“No, I just—isn’t it a conflict of interest?” Shiro asks.

“If you think that’s a conflict of interest, then, buddy, I have something to tell you,” Keith snorts and waves his hand around to gesture at the house.

“Oh...yeah…”

“Yeah,” Keith laughs again, and it’s really one of Shiro’s favorite sounds now. “So, want to meet Kolivan?”

“I suppose so,” Shiro puts his arms around Keith and pulls him in close to rest his boyfriend’s head against his chest. 

\---

If he had known agreeing to meet Keith’s uncle meant that it would happen that very afternoon, Shiro would have emphasized to make it a plan for another day and not just a mere two hours after he and Keith had gotten each other off in his new house. He would have been even less likely to agree for it to happen that week if Shiro had been aware that meeting Kolivan also meant meeting basically Keith’s entire family.

“Hey, at least my dad isn’t here,” had been Keith’s only form of comfort.

“Where is he?” 

“Business trip consulting for a new firehouse being built a few states away,” Keith pauses for a moment. “Actually, after he hears about this, you’ll probably have to come over for dinner with my parents.”

So, here Shiro is, sitting in the living room of Keith’s uncle’s house. It’s a lovely home, as Shiro had said when shaking Kolivan’s hand.  _ You haven’t seen all of it yet _ had been the man’s gruff reply. Shiro keeps a firm hold on the teacup and saucer in his hands as Keith animatedly tells Kolivan—who is a large, large man, with a long braid and scar across his eye that only looks appropriate for an action movie—about all the parts of Shiro’s house that are ripe for renovation.

Kolivan nods along as Keith talks, as do Keith’s other uncles, Thace, Antok, and Ulaz, who are also all sitting around the room. They’re not as large as Kolivan, but they look as intimidating and are, very importantly, bigger than Shiro. But none of them are who Shiro keeps trying to avoid any form of eye contact or acknowledgment from.

In the early days of the relationship, Keith and Shiro had the discussions about their family lives, and Shiro felt warmed by just how much love and support Keith seemed to be surrounded by with his parents and uncles. He’d wanted to meet them, of course, but he wasn’t prepared at all for this. When Shiro walked into the house behind Keith, his mother, Krolia, was quick to come up and introduce herself and shake his hand. It had taken Shiro by surprise, and he’d quickly returned the sentiment of being happy to finally meet her, but that had all changed so fast.

It’s just that Shiro was very used to only being with Keith and not caring about who was watching, and then he’d made the mistake of unconsciously kissing Keith and squeezing his thigh in thanks when he handed Shiro the teacup now clutched in his hands. One of Keith’s uncles had made a  _ hmpf _ sound, and Shiro snapped his head around only to meet the hard gaze of Krolia. Now, it was silly to think she was upset about a simple kiss, but the more she kept scrutinizing Shiro, the smaller he felt.

“So, what are your intentions, Shiro?” Kolivan asks, drawing him out of his thoughts filled with the anxiety of impressing the family.

“What?” Shiro replies much higher in pitch than he wanted.

“What are your intentions with the house?” Kolivan asks again. Thace and Antok both take a drink at that moment to hide their snickers while Ulaz’s shoulders shake. Shiro spares a quick look over at Krolia who has an eyebrow raised with a half-smile.

“My, uh, intentions, are to fix the house,” Shiro answers uselessly.

“I think that much was clear,” Ulaz responds. 

“Oh,” Shiro really hates himself right now. 

“He’s hopeless when it comes to real estate,” Keith waves his hand and grabs another Oreo, sticking the whole thing into his mouth.

“I wouldn’t say I’m hopeless,” Shiro starts with a frown, “Just...unsure.”

“Hopeless,” Keith repeats after swallowing the cookie and going for another.

Shiro wishes Keith would take it easy on him in front of the family, but Keith also clearly thinks that there’s nothing to worry about and that all of them will love Shiro immediately. He had said as much once they dismounted Keith’s bike outside the family home and started making their way up the driveway. Kolivan lived in a beautiful part of the city. The house was bright with a wraparound porch and lush trees everywhere.

“Okay, maybe hopeless,” Shiro smiles in attempt to agree with the humor, but everyone’s previous expressions of amusement have disappeared. Shiro’s smile falters as he continues. “The house just needs to be brightened up and updated.”

“Of course,” Kolivan agrees, “But this is also your time to decide on anything you want to add in.”

“Or take out, like the second-floor half-bath,” Keith quickly points out.

“I don’t understand your hate towards half-baths on the second floor of houses,” Thace states, pointing out that this is clearly something known within the family.

“Oh, I don’t hate all of them,” Keith corrects, sending a sideways glance to Shiro, who catches the look and sputters on the tea he was about to drink. Shiro coughs and diverts his gaze down at his knees to avoid eye contact with any of Keith’s family in case they’re aware of what Keith was insinuating.

“I think we will be glad to take on the job,” Kolivan offers, which makes Shiro stop staring at the small stain on his pants that he assumes is from being on his knees in an old ass kitchen earlier.

“You will?” Shiro doesn’t mean to sound so surprised.

“Of course,” Ulaz nods from his chair. “We just need to see the house, figure out what will work. You do actually have to decide on what you want first, though.”

“And you should think about a designer,” Antok adds.

“I guess the only one I know is Romelle,” Shiro says contemplatively, remembering the name from the flyer about that open house he was tricked into going to by Lance. He supposes it wasn’t a bad trick in the end.

“Oh, Romelle is quite wonderful to work with,” Shiro is thrown by the enthusiasm suddenly expressed by Kolivan. 

The conversation goes to Keith agreeing that the next thing they need to do is set up a day for Kolivan and crew to come view the house with Romelle to properly start with ideas on the renovation. Then when the business part of the meeting is over, Shiro really had hoped that Keith would conclude it time to leave and not continue a full-on family introduction, but by that time it was nearing the early evening and he was invited to stay for dinner. Shiro could hardly decline. 

This was how he then found himself recruited into helping with preparing dinner. Keith made to go to the kitchen with Krolia, Thace, Antok, and Shiro, but then Kolivan called him away to help look at something on one of the trucks they use for the business.

“Be right back,” Keith pecked Shiro’s cheek and followed Kolivan and Ulaz. Shiro swore in his peripheral vision he saw Kolivan and Krolia share a look.

“So, um, does the whole family live in this area?” Shiro asks tentatively.

“Yes, we like to keep close,” Krolia answers. “Keith lives not too far from here, as I’m sure you’re aware.” She opens the knife drawer and pulls out a large butcher knife while saying this.

“Oh...yeah…” Shiro flounders in the middle of the kitchen. It turns out that the whole family lives in houses around the city that they’ve worked on, except for Keith, who’s still in an apartment because he hasn’t found a house he liked enough yet to put the time and effort into fixing up.

“We knew he wouldn’t go fully into the family business,” Thace tells Shiro as he sets him up with a bag of potatoes to peel at the sink. “Instead he keeps helping people find houses and never his own so we can finally start work on his place to settle into.”

Shiro thinks that sounds like Keith, putting all his time and effort on others and forgoing his own search for a home. 

“So, Shiro,” Krolia starts what he knows is about to be the true interrogation. She’s currently breaking down full chickens with the previously acquired butcher’s knife. “Keith mentioned you work for Garrison Co., what do you do there?”

“I’m the head of engineering,” Shiro doesn’t know why he feels afraid to admit this. He’s good at his job, and he loves it after the years of suffering he went through working for the company. Thace and Antok both make impressed sounds and Krolia nods. The reactions encourage him, so Shiro proceeds to tell them about how his current major project is working on a new model of a small passenger plane for shorter flights. Because it’s been something he’s been so deeply invested in working on for over a year—and, honestly, he’s a nerd—Shiro finds himself forgetting to stop and filter down what he’s saying and just keeps talking animatedly about the plane, at one point using the potato peeler to explain the design.

“Sorry,” Shiro scrambles when he does finally catch himself. “I forget to just stop talking about it sometimes.”

There’s a smile on Krolia’s face as she throws a chicken thigh into the bowl. “No, it’s good to have passions.”

“What about your family, Shiro?” Thace asks.

“They’re on the other side of the country and spend every call trying to convince me to move back closer to them,” Shiro laughs to himself. “I tried to get them to move out here instead, but that didn’t really go over well.”

“Can’t blame them for trying to get their kid back close,” Thace replies.

“Yeah,” Krolia agrees, a knife pointed at Shiro. “It helps to keep an eye on your child even when they’re grown.”

All Shiro can manage is a tense smile and nod at her before looking back down at the peeler and potato still held in his hand. “Nice job,” Krolia says, and Shiro turns to look at her again as she gestures to the perfectly peeled potatoes sitting in front of him. “You’re a strong one,” she adds, and Shiro knows it has nothing to do with his help in the kitchen. She gives a quick pat to his arm before moving away, and the moment of unease crawling over Shiro’s skin dissipates almost instantly. “You’ll have to come for dinner at our place when Tex gets back.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

Shiro continues to tend to whatever tasks are given to him in the kitchen and dinner is close to ready when Keith, Ulaz, and Kolivan return and help to set the table. Kolivan decides it’s a day to utilize the large formal dining area in the house. Another of Keith’s uncles, Regris, had been out on a site visit for one of their current projects and comes back just in time to shake Shiro’s hand in greeting, look over at his other family members to gauge their opinion of Shiro, and then, to Shiro’s surprise, pulls him into a hug.

When they all sit down around the table, Krolia and Kolivan at the two heads and Shiro situated between Keith and Thace, Keith takes Shiro’s hand in his and squeezes. He leans in briefly to whisper in Shiro’s ear, “I’m sorry you got dragged into a full family affair.”

“No, I like it,” Shiro smiles back at Keith. And it’s true. He’s found a lot more than he realized with Keith.

\---

“Oh this is  _ dreadful, _ ” Romelle declares for the probably hundredth time that day as she walks through Shiro’s house.

He frowns. Even though Shiro is fully aware that the house is nothing less than atrocious and was purchased solely for the purpose of remodeling, he feels incredibly defensive of it. It might be dreadful, but it’s  _ his _ dreadful. “It’s not bad...it has potential.”

“Yes, true, the potential is just buried deep,  _ deep _ within how unfortunate it is,” Romelle pulls out a measuring tape and doubles-back through the house to presumably take measurements for whatever ideas are formulating in the horror house.

Keith squeezes Shiro’s hand when the designer leaves the master suite everyone had gathered in. “She’s good at this,” he reassures.

“She could call the house mean names less often,” Shiro mutters, causing Keith to snort and to lean up to land a kiss on Shiro’s nose. 

They go to find Kolivan, Thace, and Antok, who had also come for the joint meeting and walk-through with all interested parties for the renovation. When they get back downstairs, everyone has met in the kitchen, and Shiro thinks about what he did to Keith on the part of the countertop where Kolivan is currently leaning. 

“So,” Romelle opens the conversation, “what would you like seen done to the house, Shiro?”

Thankfully, with Keith’s help, Shiro was properly prepared for this question now. Well, close to it. He gives brief descriptions of the things he definitely wants to be improved in the house: the kitchen, the carpet, all the tiling  _ everywhere, _ finishing the basement, and lastly, getting rid of the second-floor half-bathroom.

No one else in the room has to know exactly how Keith managed to get this list out of Shiro. One moment, Shiro was sitting in between Keith’s legs on the couch while they watched a movie, and then Keith started to gently lay kisses across the back of Shiro’s neck while smoothing his hands up and down Shiro’s thighs. The comfort of Keith pressed behind him and how the other man was gently touching him lulled Shiro into feeling at ease. When Shiro moved to try and turn his head to capture Keith’s lips, Keith whispered a  _ nuh-uh _ into his ear, and then as Shiro tried to also reach his hands to get them on Keith, he was again met by resistance. Keith grabbed Shiro’s wrists and placed his hands on Keith’s thighs, telling him to keep them there.

Once the band of Shiro’s sweatpants was lowered so Keith could pull him out, Shiro’s eyes fluttered at the first fleeting touch of Keith running a single finger up and down his length as it hardened, tracing the vein on the bottom. Shiro arched back into Keith’s touch, murmuring a plea for  _ more _ and squeezing Keith’s thighs.  _ Soon  _ had been Keith’s reply before he took hold of Shiro’s wrists again and moved them behind his back, a restraint that felt very much like one of Shiro’s ties suddenly gliding on his skin. 

“Is this okay?” Keith asked quietly and kissed the back of Shiro’s neck, biting lightly while setting the last firm knot to keep Shiro bound.

“Yeah,” Shiro breathed out. He felt a low burn across his body with how much he wanted the man sitting behind him. 

Keith ran his hands up and down Shiro’s restrained arms before leaning to the side of the couch and pulling something out from under a pillow. Keith had retrieved his phone and opened up the notes app.

“What—” Shiro began to ask, confused, but Keith cut him off.

“Because you’re so difficult, this is how we’re going to get a list of renovation needs from you,” Keith’s voice was quiet, something hotly sinister in it as he spoke the words into Shiro’s ear, breath puffing out as he talked and making Shiro close his eyes. “For each thing you think of, I’ll add it to the list, and then I’ll touch you for two minutes.”

“Fuck,” that was all Shiro could articulate at the moment, and he didn’t know how Keith expected anything else out of him.

Keith laughed behind him, and Shiro loved that sound usually, but right now he was stuck in what had to be his most frustrating moment in life all because he was indecisive about home remodeling. “Come on, big guy,” Keith taunted. He leaned forward a bit so Shiro’s back and Keith’s chest were as flush as they could be. Keith placed the hand not holding his phone on one of Shiro’s pecs and gave a light squeeze. 

Shiro was hard and straining, his brain working with as much determination as it could muster with all his thoughts floating elsewhere. Eventually, he did manage to get out that he wanted to change the kitchen flooring. Keith quickly typed it out on his phone before setting a two-minute timer and stroking Shiro. Keith used his left hand to hold the phone as his right worked over Shiro, and he kept the phone close in view so the ticking down of time mocked Shiro as he watched the seconds dwindle down to when Keith would snatch away his hand from Shiro. 

The pattern kept going, Keith kissing the back of Shiro’s neck and whispering words of encouragement to him until he could finally think of something else to add to the list. Then Shiro would be given the briefest amount of relief from Keith’s touch, timer taunting before they’d cycle through the steps again. The entire process left Shiro in a daze, near tears, and cursing every single HGTV host he could think of and some old PBS home show hosts for good measure as well. Somehow he did manage to get a list together that satisfied Keith, and Shiro had no idea how long it took. How long had he been suspended in this tease? But finally, finally, Keith was telling Shiro how good he had done and put aside the phone, no timer commanding how long Keith would touch Shiro. When he finally came,  _ hard _ , Shiro saw white behind his eyes and what he assumed might be the real estate god, which was Keith as far as Shiro is concerned.

The memory of putting the list together causes Shiro to blush. He avoids turning his eyes to Keith because Shiro knows that will only rile him up with the reminder even more.

“Why don’t you like the half-bath?” Romelle asks, looking up from the tablet she had been taking her notes on, thankfully breaking through Shiro’s reverie. “Allura told me what happened in her and Lance’s open house half-bathroom, I would think—”

“What happened in whose open house in a half-bathroom?” Thace looks between Shiro and Romelle, confused.

“Nothing happened,” Keith hastily replies, and Shiro is too horrified to have confirmation that Keith’s friends definitely know what happened that night and hopes that the information didn’t spread further than Romelle. But Shiro is also sure that his blushing completely gives himself away right now between the half-bathroom incident and thinking about Keith’s commanding albeit extremely hot method to get Shiro’s improvement list together.

“I’m sure,” Romelle adds with a skeptical eyebrow raised. “Kolivan, I believe you have some ideas about exterior improvements?”

Kolivan tells everyone what Thace, Antok, and he evaluated and discussed for adding updated shutters and a wraparound porch to the front of the house. It sounds lovely to Shiro. All the ideas they’ve thrown down sound amazing, and he’s excited to see what the house eventually turns into with Romelle’s designs and Keith’s family’s remodeling experience. The idea of a proper home gives Shiro just the beginnings of warmth, like being in a fleece blanket with tea in front of a fireplace or lying in the beams of sun coming through large windows. It’s the telltale warmth of  _ home. _

\--- 

Shiro and Keith stand ready for attack. Their weapons are in-hand and goggles strapped to their heads; gloves cover their hands from the damage they’ll be inflicting on the enemy. 

“Are you ready?” Shiro asks. 

“Yes, sir,” Keith replies. 

“Let’s do this.”

Keith takes the first swing with the mallet and knocks it through the wall of the second floor half bathroom. Both of them cheer at the sight of the horrible lime green wallpaper knocked away. Keith tugs at the handle to pull it back out, but the mallet doesn’t budge. Shiro watches as Keith continues to struggle for a few seconds, wiping his brow in between pulls and making small grunts. He doesn’t want to be turned on by this, but he is a weak man sometimes and just admires the view for a while. 

“Let me try,” Shiro puts his hands on Keith’s shoulders. 

“Just give me a minute,” Keith grunts with another pull of the handle. 

“It’s been a few minutes.”

Keith’s shoulders sag and he mutters something about how he can’t lose to a wall. Choosing not to acknowledge that, Shiro gently moves Keith aside with the hold he still has on his shoulders. Placing both hands securely around the handle, Shiro feels vaguely like he’s back in Little League getting ready to bat at his first game. He’d missed that first throw, but not today he tells himself. 

Except when he also pulls, the mallet stays in the wall. After a few more attempts, Shiro lets go. “I didn’t think walls could fight back.”

“Devil bathroom,” Keith grumbles. “Let’s try together?”

“How?”

“I’ll hold on to the mallet, and then you’ll be behind me holding it as well. And then we pull it together.”

Shiro starts laughing. “We gonna pull the mallet off together, baby?”

“Oh my god,” Keith groans, putting his head in his hands. “Shiro, please.”

Shiro puts his arms around Keith’s shoulders and whispers in his ear. “You say that when I pull you off, too.”

“Holy shit, no, nope,” Keith pushes at Shiro until he lets go, still laughing at how offended Keith is. He gets a hold of the mallet and looks over at Shiro expectedly. “Get behind me, babe.” There’s a smirk, and Shiro knows if he turns to look in the mirror behind him, his ears are bright red. Those tables turned quickly. He positions himself behind Keith and wraps around Keith by extension of reaching forward to get a grip on the mallet.

“Count of three?” Shiro asks, and Keith merely nods in agreement. “Okay, one, two, three!”

They both pull. Shiro and Keith’s combined strength is overly successful. The mallet comes free of the wall, but the momentum keeps the two of them moving backward, which leads to them tripping on their own feet. Shiro’s back hits the counter behind them as they fall to the floor. A sharp pain stings Shiro as he lands hard on his ass, and then the wind gets knocked out of him as Keith collapses on top of him. The mallet falls to the side as they both lose grip on it.

Sounds of their breathing echo in the bathroom. Shiro is too stunned and surprised from what happened to move and just stares up at the popcorn ceiling. Keith’s snort is loud before he starts to laugh. It’s a full-bodied and deep sound, one that’s just pure and unabashed. Nothing is held back. Shiro takes a moment to appreciate the sound before his own laughter joins Keith’s, and he wraps his arms around the man sprawled across his body.

Keith squirms in his arms and turns around so he’s lying on top of Shiro, looking him right in the eyes. The laughter from both of them hasn’t subsided in the least, and Shiro wants to hold everything about this moment with him forever. The fluorescent light leaves everything in the room coated in an unforgiving brightness and the floor offers no comfort, but Keith’s full-bellied cackle keeps going and going, filling every crevice of space in the bathroom. Tears start to form in Keith’s eyes from how hard he’s laughing. Shiro moves his arms to take Keith’s face in his hands, the thumb from his right-hand gliding across Keith’s cheeks, metal catching the escaped tears. 

“I love you.”

Keith’s laugh stops, which Shiro finds a shame, but then the smile that spreads across Keith’s face more than makes up for it. “Yeah?” Keith asks quietly.

“Yeah,” Shiro grins.

“Cool, because I love you, too,” Keith gives one last chuckle before leaning down to kiss Shiro. He wastes no time swiping his tongue across Shiro’s lips, and who is Shiro to deny Keith what he wants. A lick into his mouth makes Shiro moan, and a bite to his bottom lip makes Shiro gasp. 

When they part, foreheads touching, Shiro has an idea. “It would be a shame to not give this bathroom the treatment it deserves before it’s gone.”

“You’re right,” Keith looks devilish. “We have a tradition for second floor half bathrooms.”

Shiro rolls them over, and Keith giggles as Shiro pushes the mallet into the corner of the room.

\---

A single knock serves as the only warning Shiro receives before the door to his office gets thrown open. Expecting Matt, Shiro gets ready to offer his thoughts on storming people’s offices during working hours, and while Matt is there, he’s walking behind Hunk.

“Yes?” Shiro narrows his eyes at Matt.

“Matt just tagged along, I actually came here to talk to you,” Hunk says as he and Matt take seats in the chairs across Shiro’s desk.

“I’m still working on reading through that report, sorry,” Shiro assumes this then actually has something to do with work.

Hunk waves a hand dismissively. “Yeah, I’m sure you will. I hear my referral to you for Altea Realty worked out well, huh?”

Shiro turns to Matt. “Why can’t you stay quiet about anything for two seconds?”

“Actually,” Hunk cuts in again, but Matt’s face doesn’t convey innocence. “Keith sent me an Edible Arrangement this morning as thanks for referring you to him.”

“What?” 

“And Hunk would find out anyway,” Matt points out, leaning back in the chair and throwing his hands in the air in full dramatics mode.

“I would have,” Hunk nods sagely in agreeance.

“Hunk wanted to bring you something from the arrangement, but I told him you’re probably getting enough sugar from Keith at home,” Matt winks.

“Hell yeah, my man,” Hunk leans forward and puts a fist up for Shiro to bump, but he chooses to continue staring at his friends, stoic. “Or not,” Hunk drops his hand.

“None of this is your business, but yeah, Keith and I are together and thank you Hunk for your referral services,” Shiro inclines his head to Hunk.

“So what have you two decided to do to the house?” Hunk asks.

“Well,” Shiro slumps in his chair a little. “It’s more what I want. Keith helped me decide on what I want for the remodel.”

“Keith didn’t give his own input?” Matt frowns.

“No.”

“And you didn’t ask him?”

“I mean...I asked if he thought they were good ideas? Why?”

Hunk and Matt share a look out of the corner of their eyes. Shiro assumes they thought it was subtle. It wasn’t.

“What?” Shiro groans.

“I mean, okay, Shiro, but if you guys are gonna live there, shouldn’t he have some say?” Hunk’s brows are furrowed as he speaks, mouth also turned downturned.

“Wait, no,” Shiro starts. “We—we aren’t living together.”

“How long is the remodel going to take?” Matt asks.

“With everything in the plan, it’ll be at least eight months.”

Matt leans forward, resting his elbows on his thighs and his chin in his hands. “And at the end of that, you and Keith could move in together, yeah?”

Shiro shakes his head furiously. He hadn’t thought about any of this. They’d been a couple for a little over a month now, and yeah, they were definitely in love and Shiro was so extremely certain that there was no one else in the world he would want to spend his life with, but would this be too soon? Or would this be a logical thing to do? He moves further down his chair, eyes staring at his desk as his chin rests on his chest from how far he’s slumped down.

“You didn’t think about it, did you?” Hunk sounds just on the side of pitiful that irks Shiro.

“No,” he admits softly.

“Maybe you should,” Hunk adds.

\---

Shiro replies to Keith’s text about their plans for tomorrow and then puts his head in his hands. It’s the pose he’s been in since the conversation with Matt and Hunk earlier at work. He really hadn’t put any thought at the possibility that if this is going to be his house to grow into, well, then, Keith is very much part of that life and should have some input into what’s going on with the remodel. How had he managed to not realize this immediately?

Glancing up at the time on his computer, Shiro figures he has another minute of self-pity and to gather himself before his parents call for the weekly Skype talk. Whenever he had told his parents that Keith and he were in a relationship, neither of them had shown the least bit of surprise.

“Well, you mentioned his name quite a lot,” his dad had shrugged.

On cue, the chiming of an incoming call starts on his computer. Shiro rubs his face before accepting, watching the screen take a moment to load before the image of his parents appears grainy and then resets into clear high quality.

“Takashi!” they both greet him enthusiastically, and Shiro’s spirits are immediately lifted.

“Hi, Mom and Dad,” Shiro leans forward and beams back at them. They’re both seated close together in the living room of their house on that blue couch they’ve had for as long as Shiro can remember. After the usual exchange of asking how each other are, Shiro decides to ask them about it. It’s just always been such a consistent part of all the houses they’ve lived in that he’s never spared it a thought. “I have a question, actually, why have you both never gotten rid of that couch?”

“This one?” his mom asks and pats the arm of the couch next to her. “Because it’s the first piece of furniture we bought together.”

“Oh, wow, wait, really? I had no idea.”

“Well, furniture wasn’t really one of your interests, was it?” his mom laughs. “When you were little you were more concerned with  _ Gundam _ and your studies.”

“In that order,” his dad adds.

“Okay, fair,” Shiro laughs and concedes.

“Is the remodel making you think of furniture?” his dad asks.

“Yeah, we’ve got a plan in place and started some of the gutting, but Keith and I have plans tomorrow to go to the home improvement store and maybe look at furniture somewhere tomorrow.”

“You’re planning the house together? When do we get to meet him?” his mom leans closer to the computer and narrows her eyes at him going into full inquiring mother mode.

“Actually, um, I’m really dumb,” Shiro admits, looking down at his hands.

“What did you do wrong? Did you hurt this nice boy already?” 

“Mom!” Shiro cries and looks back at the screen. “No!”

“Then what, Takashi?”

“I realized, well—Matt and Hunk pointed out to me—that it’s been more Keith just asking what I want or helping me decide what I want, never actually him, like, quite actually giving any of his own thoughts? Because I haven’t really...asked…” Shiro trails off at the end.

Shaking her head, his mom asks, “You like this boy, yes?”

“Yes, very much.”

“Love him?”

“Yes,” Shiro feels himself blush at the admission to his parents.

To his surprise, his dad speaks up next. “Then, Takashi, it sounds like you need to talk to Keith some more.” 

“I guess so,” Shiro gives a small chuckle. When he looks at his parents on the screen, he feels a swell of love for them and the swell of missing them. “Miss you, both.”

“Then come visit us!” his mom shakes her finger at the camera. “And bring Keith.”

“I will, I will,” he leans back in his chair and keeps chuckling.

“Remember to also make a nice room for your old parents to stay in,” his dad says, leaning into his mom’s space with a wide grin.

“Do you want your own balcony?”

“Yes, good! And a fireplace! It’s cold over there in winter,” his dad nods.

“ _ Hiroshi! _ ” his mom scolds playfully.

“ _ Mayumi, _ ” his dad replies in the same tone.

“Okay, okay, so that’s all decided,” the smile won’t leave Shiro’s face. “So, what have you both been up to?”

Shiro listens as his dad excitedly launches into talking about the new mystery book series he started reading and his mom turns to fondly watch him speak. It’s such a soft look, and Shiro has seen his parents give it to each other over the years. He guesses maybe that’s the way he looks at Keith now, too.

\---

The bright red motorcycle and its rider come to a stop in front of Shiro. Keith flips the visor of his helmet, “Hop on, change of plans.”

“What’s the change?” Shiro pulls his helmet on and gets on the bike behind Keith. 

“Lunch first.”

“Okay, that sounds good actually. Where do you want to go?”

“Oh, we have reservations…”

“Where?” Shiro asks, and Keith tells him an address he doesn’t recognize. “Where?” Shiro asks again, confused, as he wraps his arms around Keith.

“It’s a house,” Keith revs the engine.

“ _ Keith _ .”

“It’s Kroila and Tex Kogane’s house,” Keith says it fast before kicking off the ground and speeding them away from Shiro’s apartment building, and Shiro tightens his hold on Keith out of both the shock of where they’re going and the sudden take-off.

They cruise through the city as Keith zigs and zags them through traffic, and he manages to never once stop at a light, which means Shiro has no chance to question Keith any further. He just gets to sit there gripping his boyfriend and think about what impending doom he’s going to experience. The lack of stopping also means they get to the destination fairly quickly.

The house sits at the end of a long street where homes are spread far apart on large acreages. The double-story has a large front porch and shutters on the windows that all appear to have been newly painted a brilliant white. 

“I feel like I should have brought something,” Shiro laments his empty hands that could have been holding a lovely box of lemon tarts or something to present to Keith’s parents, but Keith takes a hold of his hand, thumb gently rubbing Shiro’s metal wrist as he fishes out a key and unlocks the front door.

“It’s me!” Keith yells into the house as they walk in. 

“Kitchen!” comes a reply in what sounds to be Krolia’s voice from somewhere deeper within in the home. After Shiro and Keith kick off their shoes, Keith takes Shiro’s hand again and nods his head in the direction of a doorway past the living room. Shiro looks around and notes all the craftsmanship in the details of the space: crown molding, shining hardwood floors, and walls painted warm tones.

When they enter the kitchen, Krolia throws her arms up, one hand holding a knife, and greets Shiro. She envelopes him in a hug so suddenly that he doesn’t get a chance to fully process and hastily moves an arm to return to embrace.

“Wow, not even greeting your son,” Keith says flatly, rolling his eyes and leaning against the counter.

“Hello, son,” Keith’s dad turns around from the sink, drying his hands on a dish towel and ruffling Keith’s hair, much to his son’s discontent.

“Nice to finally meet you, Shiro,” he puts his hand out, and Shiro’s taken back by the deep drawl to his voice. “Tex, I’ve heard a lot.”

Shiro remembers the first time Keith and he talked about their families and Shiro asked if his dad was really named Tex. Keith explained it wasn’t and that was just a nickname he went by. When Shiro tried to ask about his dad’s real name, Keith cryptically responded with  _ wouldn’t you like to know _ and changed the subject to a family faction they went on to the Devil’s Rope Barbed Wire Museum in Texas.

“Thank you, sir, it’s good to meet you, too,” Tex’s grip on Shiro’s hand is strong and firm, but not the same intensity of Krolia’s when they met. “Why don’t you and I go take a look at what’s going on with the grill outside?” 

Shiro looks over at Keith, eyes going wide in panic. Keith simply nods with a sly smile and turns his back to them, leaning on Krolia to watch as she chops something.

“Yeah, sure, sounds good,” Shiro’s voice is tight. “Grilling for lunch...that’s a lot.”

“It’s not hard,” Tex quirks the eyebrow that has a scar crossing through it. 

“Oh,” Shiro’s pretty sure he hears Keith and Krolia snicker as he walks away to follow the casual grill master.

Shiro stands back as Tex opens the large grill on the back patio and moves things around with some tongs. He doesn’t look up as he asks Shiro to hand him the brush and bottle of sauce sitting on the table, and Shiro moves hurriedly to retrieve both things. More silence follows as Tex liberally coats whatever meat is on the grill with the sauce. Once he seems satisfied with tending to the food, he lowers the top and finally turns to Shiro. “So, how’s it going, Shiro?”

“It’s...good. Really good,” Shiro becomes firmer in his response as he speaks.

“Is it?” Tex crosses his arms and raises that eyebrow again. Shiro thinks for a minute that at least he’s not under Krolia and Tex’s scrutiny together, he might really have exploded, then.

“Yeah, you know, Keith is amazing, and I’m so thankful for him. Then things with the house are going okay, we’re going shopping later for remodeling things,” this is the first time Shiro is fully thinking about and voicing everything going on in his life, and it’s true, all of this is just  _ good.  _ “I spoke with my parents last night, and they’re doing well and happy for me.” Shiro shrugs. “I can’t ask for much else right now, I guess.”

Tex looks at Shiro, eyes hard and thoughtful. Shiro replays everything he said in his head and tries to pinpoint what exactly came out of his mouth that shouldn’t have because god knows Shiro seems to lose himself when talking to this family, they are frightening. “Good,” comes Tex’s reply finally.

“Good?”

“Yeah, didn’t you just say ‘good’?” Tex laughs. “Now, more importantly, what have Kolivan, Thace, and Antok convinced you to do to the house. You don’t need full marble countertops, just on the island. Get granite for the rest. Marble floors, too? A sham. Nothin’ wrong with some nice, clean hardwood.” He emphasizes the flooring advice by gliding his hand in the air as if sliding it along a smooth surface.

“I—yeah, Keith actually told me all that,” Shiro admits.

“So he does listen to his old man over his uncles sometimes?” Tex smiles. “Good to know.”

“Keith helped put a lot of the renovation list together, sir.”

“You’re doing everything together, eh?”

Shiro tenses up. This conversation again. He really is that fucking dumb, isn’t he? Everyone can tell the obvious right now.

“He’s been giving feedback about my thoughts, but, yes, I would like for him to become more active in the whole process. I want what he wants.”

“And what do you think he wants?”

Opening and closing his mouth several times, Shiro loses the ability to think and form words. What does Keith want right now? Well, Shiro can probably guess the abstract big picture, but…

At that moment, the only person with the true answer opens the backdoor and comes over to Shiro and Tex. “Hey, guys, what’s going on.”

“Just giving your boy some renovation advice,” Tex tells Keith.

“Oh, the great granite versus marble versus hardwood debate that almost ruined Thanksgiving a few years ago?” Keith raises both eyebrows. He pulls one of Shiro’s arms to wrap around him so he can lean into Shiro’s side.

“I know what I’m about,” Tex says.

“So, Shiro,” Keith looks up at him. “What combination of surfaces are you going to go with?”

“Your dad raises good points, so his choices sound good.”

“Is that what you want?” Keith asks.

“Yeah, is that what you want?” Shiro counters.

“It’s your house, what do  _ you _ want,” Keith pushes back. 

“Your input is important, too,” Shiro frowns. 

Keith grins and turns back to his dad. “He’s been useless at making decisions for his house.”

“Looks like,” Tex responds, stroking his chin with a hand. 

The subject changes to the new firehouse that Tex had been helping out with, but all these conversations are gathering together to really get under Shiro’s skin. How does he convince Keith that what he wants needs to go into the house as well. It stays with him as the four of them sit around the table on the back porch with the best barbeque Shiro has probably ever had with heaps of potato salad, mac and cheese, and dinner rolls.

There’s a fight after the meal that Shiro and Keith win to take care of the cleanup. 

“So,” Shiro starts, “did your parents keep your childhood room intact?” 

Keith looks up from where he’s been trying to scrub cheese off a baking dish and bores into Shiro with a stare so sharp it feels like his eyes are peeling Shiro apart. “We moved to this house my junior year of high school, so the room is kind of there still, yeah.”

“Cool,” Shiro nods as he attempts to fit leftovers into tupperware. “We should, you know, check it out. So I can see what young Keith was like.”

Keith lowers his voice. His parents are a room over watching television. “You want to fuck in my childhood bed, huh?”

“No,” Shiro gasps, putting his hand on his chest and looking scandalizes. “Me? Never. Maybe makeout a little. I respect your parents.”

“I never did have a boy alone in my room,” Keith sighs. “Well, not one that I liked. Just friends, I guess.”

“Well, we have to let you live that dream, have that experience,” Shiro’s smirk is slow, intentional.

The pace of their cleaning up increases significantly after that. Keith pops his head into the television room to tell his parents he’s going to show Shiro his old room.

“Behave, kids!” he hears Tex yell.

“We can look at pictures, too, Shiro!” Krolia adds.

“MOM!” Keith shouts back, betrayed.

“I do want to see baby Keith, though,” Shiro pouts.

Keith rolls his eyes and pushes Shiro up the stairs. 

The room is neat and tidy, mostly because it’s rarely used. Everything about it both feels like a standard boys room but also it manages to be distinctly Keith. The walls are blue and the bedding a black and white plaid. A bookshelf holds comics and popular fantasy and sci-fi book series, some of the spines looking more loved than others. Model motorcycles sit in front of the books on one of the shelves, and Shiro makes a mental note to ask Keith if he made these himself. 

“Ha, I had this poster, too,” Shiro taps his finger against a retro NASA poster on the closet door.

“Of course you did,” Keith laughs and collapses face first onto the bed. 

“Yeah, well you can see it when we go visit my parents some time.”

“You want me to go with you to visit your family?” Keith turns his head to look at Shiro, pulling a pillow into his arms to rest his cheek on. 

“Of course,” Shiro replies softly. He walks over to the bed and sits down on the edge. He leans across to take Keith’s head in his hand and gently brushes his cheek with a thumb. Keith moves his face away from where its squashed into the pillow to nuzzle into Shiro’s palm. 

“I’d like that,” Keith breathes out and kisses Shiro’s hand. 

“Me, too,” Shiro whispers and lowers himself to kiss Keith.

It’s a full-size bed, so they can both fit on in comfortably. Keith moves to accommodate Shiro, and they lie there, looking at each other while Shiro returns to gently grazing Keith’s face with his fingers. He runs a finger along the bridge of Keith’s nose, making the other man laugh, small yet bright. 

“I believe you promised to makeout with me in my childhood bed?” Keith pokes Shiro’s chest.

“Hmm, did I promise?” Shiro says contemplatively.

“You ass,” Keith pokes Shiro harder, but Shiro was expecting that, so he grabs Keith’s wrist and moves the arm up above his head and holds it down against the bed. The move means that Shiro now hovers on top of Keith, closing him in and trapping him. It’s what Keith wanted no doubt, the underlying look of triumph on Keith’s face says as much, but Shiro chooses to go ahead and feel as though it’s a win for him.

“Do you want something?” Shiro asks, voice low.

Keith squirms under Shiro, and he moves his hips back to avoid allowing Keith to get the contact he’s trying for. He whines Shiro’s name and frowns, trying to wiggle around again as Shiro takes hold of his other arm as well. “Kiss me.”

“What’s stopping you?” Shiro teases. “You want it? Come on.”

Keith strains against Shiro’s hold again but can’t raise himself up enough. “You suck.”

“Maybe later,” Shiro lets the smile appear across his lips slowly. Keith mutters something about how embarrassing Shiro is. “What’s that?” Shiro asks. “Keith, you know bad boys don’t get what they want. Just what they deserve.”

Keith blinks slowly, and when his eyes reopen they’ve gone dark. “What do I deserve?” his voice is lower, rougher like it sounds after he’s blown Shiro, and Shiro is weak to that.

Shiro lowers himself against Keith’s body, they both make noises of satisfaction as their bodies align and their lips slide against each other. As soon as Shiro lets go of his arms, Keith sinks one hand in Shiro’s hair and slides the other to pull up Shiro’s tucked in shirt at the back and rest it on the skin there. Shiro grips Keith’s hip with his left hand and uses the right to hold himself up. 

Soft sounds escape from both of them as tongues work against each other and in each other's mouths. Shiro trails wet kisses leisurely along Keith’s jaw and down to his neck.

Throwing a leg around Shiro’s waist, Keith grinds up so they can feel each other. Shiro tightens his grip on Keith’s hip and pushes him down onto the bed, making Keith grunt in protest at being denied. But Keith doesn’t stop trying to break free of Shiro’s hold, using his grasps on Shiro’s head and back to pull them closer. It takes more than physical strength because Shiro really doesn’t want to let go, but he does manage to, breaking their kiss and sitting up to straddle Keith’s hips.

“Don’t you stop,” Keith threatens and raises his hands to get them on Shiro again.

Shiro catches Keith’s hands before they make it to him. “Who said anything about stopping?” Shiro arches to keep distance between him and Keith as he pushes Keith’s hands back down to the bed above his head. “Stay and be good.”

“Why?”

“Because good boys get what they want.”

The shiver that goes through Keith leaves him pliant, tension dissipating. 

It’s a vision. Keith lying back so calmly, looking up at Shiro with all the trust in the world will never lose the rush it gives him. He could do anything and Keith knows that each move and touch would be calculated by Shiro to make him feel safe, make him feel good. 

Shiro runs a hand down Keith’s body, and when he reaches the hem of Keith’s t-shirt, he slips a finger and thumb under it so when he trails his hand back up, the shirt pushes up with him. Another slow slide of his hand up and down Keith’s now partially bare chest and stomach leaves Keith twisting his fingers in the bedding. Finally, Shiro gets to where he can see Keith is straining against his pants. A gentle brush along there before Shiro squeezes has Keith arching with a bitten lip. 

“Is this what you want?” Shiro asks hushed.

“Yes,” Keith breathes out. 

He gets Keith’s pants open and strokes Keith through the thin cotton under a few times before properly pulling him out. There’s something overwhelming about it. Keith writhing beneath him on the sheets, partially exposed, as Shiro starts to slowly work him. Shiro goes slow to watch the way Keith’s stomach tenses and his back starts to arch slightly at every hint of a faster pace. But then Shiro pulls back, returning to a light touch and soft, barely there hold. 

“You’re beautiful like this,” Shiro tells Keith, and he leans down to plant a kiss at the corner of his mouth. Keith turns his head to try and catch Shiro’s lips with his own, but Shiro leans back quickly leaving Keith to whine his name. 

Shiro keeps at it, running one hand gently up and down Keith’s bare side, watching him twitch at that touch while also trying to get more from Shiro’s other hand going at a pace that’s slowly wrecking him. 

“Tell me when you’re close,” Shiro lowers himself once more to give Keith another kiss that he lets linger so Keith can strain up to meet him. But Shiro pulls back just enough that Keith can’t kiss him again but enough for Shiro to lick at Keith’s bright and bitten bottom lip. 

“Close,” Keith says with a hitch in his voice. 

Sitting back up, Shiro lets go of Keith, which makes the other man cry out in frustration. “Shh,” Shiro soothes Keith by placing his hand on Keith’s abdomen and rubs his thumb in the trail of hair there. When it seems like Keith’s calmed again, eyes screwed tight, Shiro shifts down his body and takes Keith in his mouth. 

The change shocks Keith, and he cries out. Hands come to Shiro’s hair in a tight grip as Keith repeats his name  _ Shiro, Shiro, Shiro, _ above until he comes. Small licks from Shiro become too much for Keith after a few seconds and he swats Shiro’s head away. 

Slowly opening his eyes, Keith looks up at Shiro as he rises back to his knees on the bed. Keith’s eyes trail down to where Shiro is now opening his pants and pulling himself out. 

“I want to watch,” Keith rasps. 

“Yeah?” Shiro arches an eyebrow. “Okay. You were good for me. I’ll be good for you.”

“Go slow,” Keith instructs, watching as Shiro takes himself in hand and follows orders to stroke slowly. 

“This what you want?” Shiro asks. 

Keith nods and sits up on his elbows. “Come closer.”

Shiro shuffles up closer to Keith’s face and resumes touching himself. While Keith’s eyes stay on Shiro’s hand, Shiro’s eyes stay on Keith’s face, watching how Keith’s gaze follows the movement of Shiro’s hand. 

“Can I go faster?” Shiro decides to dare and ask. 

“Should you?” Keith smirks. He reaches up and pushes Shiro’s shirt up from one side and lets his hand under to trail up to Shiro’s chest and squeezes, making Shiro moan. Shuffling again, Keith gets so close to Shiro and leans his head forward. Shiro gasps in expectation, but instead, a light kiss is left on his hip bone. Keith flicks his eyes up at Shiro. “You want to.”

“I want a lot of things right now,” Shiro grinds out. Everything feels too sharp, too on the verge of being overwhelming as Keith’s mouth keeps lingering so close to where Shiro wants it to be. As Shiro’s hand keeps moving at the pace he’s been permitted. 

Keith slides his hand to cover Shiro’s, moving it to stroke a bit faster. “Keith,” Shiro moans.

“Hands behind your back,” Keith commands, and Shiro complies. It’s not a stable position. He’s still on his knees and the mattress barely contains enough support. Breathing has become a struggle for Shiro, with just sharp inhales and exhales getting him through. 

Finally, Keith inches his head forward. He gives one look up to Shiro before running the wetness at Shiro’s tip rub along his lips and then taking just it into his mouth. 

“Fuck,” the word punches out of Shiro.

After that Keith goes fast, bobbing his head with fervor. A swift hit to his ass makes Shiro gasp and thrust forward. At first, he worries about Keith’s reaction to the force, but Keith just moans around Shiro in encouragement. The response emboldens Shiro, and he starts making small movements in time with Keith’s.

Every muscle feels tense between trying to maintain his position on the bed while fucking Keith’s mouth and from a desire to just finally let go. When he comes, he catches himself to not be loud with a half-formed groan of Keith’s name.

They both collapse onto the bed, Shiro draping himself over Keith. 

“Bet your bed never saw this type of action before,” Shiro pants, his eyes closed but a grin on his face. 

“Only in my dreams,” Keith snorts, playing with Shiro’s bangs.

“I’m too tired and ate too much to move,” Keith groans after they’ve allowed themselves a few minutes to recover. “I can’t go shopping.”

“I kept my promise, you gotta keep yours,” Shiro jokes.

“Ugh, fine, I guess you’re right,” Keith acquiesces, though reluctant. “My parents are probably suspicious, too. But first.” Keith pulls his phone out from his back pocket and swipes to unlock it and opens the camera. “Come here,” he says holding it up and switching to the front camera. 

Shiro moves in closer to Keith so they can cuddle close. Keith takes the picture, both of them beaming. It’s cute. Their cheeks are flushed and their clothes righted; they can tell what just happened in the picture but others might not. Shiro watches as Keith sets it as his phone’s lock screen and then sends it to Shiro as well. 

“Oh, thank god, it’s not my arm anymore,” Shiro says with fake relief.

“You were in the picture, too,” Keith tries to argue unconvincingly. In a way, yes, Shiro was in the picture that used to be Keith’s lock screen. It was a photo Keith took of Shiro at the gym but the only part of him in focus was the bicep of his right arm, the rest of his body a soft blur. Shiro also has a picture from that day as his phone’s lock screen, but it’s their post-gym vanity selfie together. 

The two eventually make their way downstairs to bid farewell to Keith’s parents and thank them again for lunch. When they walk into the room, photo albums are spread across the coffee table.

“Oh, no, absolutely no,” Keith turns and pushes Shiro in the chest to leave. “We’re going to head out now, bye!”

“But the pictures—”

“But Shiro needs to see—”

Shiro and Krolia start to argue with Keith at the same time, but Keith keeps forcing Shiro away, which Shiro frankly doesn’t fight against because he’s a big fan of Keith’s strength and ability to easily push him around. It’s nice. 

“Next time, then!” Krolia yells, and Tex’s deep laughter carries through the house, only stopping once Keith slams the door shut.

“You didn’t let me thank them and say goodbye!” Shiro stays standing at the door as Keith stomps towards his bike. “I couldn’t bring lemon tarts and now,  _ this. _ ”

“They know,” he throws an arm in the air as he also digs in a jacket pocket for keys. Shiro contemplates the ramifications of contacting Krolia himself to get a look through those albums, also, Shiro’s not a monster, he’s sure his mom will do the absolute same thing when they go to visit his parents inevitably. Plus, in that scenario, there won’t be anywhere for Shiro to take Keith to run off to probably.

When Shiro gets to the bike, Keith’s already seated but hasn’t put his helmet on yet.

“Baby,” Shiro admonishes Keith lightly, “I just wanted to see you when you were a baby.”

Keith scowls, a breeze ruffling through his long hair. “You’ll have other opportunities.”

“You promise?” Shiro chuckles and leans down to place a kiss on Keith’s cheek. Keith grumbles something about it’s not his fault if they never manage to come over to his parents’ house again, and Shiro laughs fondly, taking Keith’s face in a hand and turning him to kiss the other cheek that’s also turned a little red. “Love you,” Shiro says easily and kisses Keith properly.

When Shiro moves back, Keith’s face has softened. “I love you, too,” he whispers. “Thanks for meeting my entire family.”

Shiro pats Keith’s thigh before throwing his leg over the bike to climb on behind. “You’ll be having to meet mine, too, anyway.”

“I can’t wait,” Keith says, and it’s not sarcastic, but thoughtful, as if he’s imagining what meeting the people he’s only seen in photos around Shiro’s apartment will be like.

“Me too,” Shiro replies, putting on his helmet and wrapping his arms around Keith.

\--- 

“Which one do you like better for the kitchen: Milkyway or Sugar Cookie?” Shiro asks, holding two paint swatches up in the aisle of the home improvement store. The two of them have been there for five minutes and Shiro spent the first four of those panicking at the rows of paint companies and swatches to choose from. Eventually, Keith put him in front of the first display for a starting point.

“That was fast,” Keith raises his eyebrows at Shiro.

“These, like, what even shade is this? Light pastel yellow but it’s also white? Whatever, these seem like they’re good kitchen colors,” Shiro attempts to make sense of all the options in front of him.

“I like this one,” Keith hands Shiro a card for October Sky.

“Is it because of your birthday?” Shiro arches an eyebrow questioningly at Keith.

“Maybe, but it’s nice, too,” Keith gives a small smile and goes back to flicking through the book of inspirational design photos. Shiro adds the card to the ones in his hands.

“Well, that’s narrowed down,” Shiro nods to himself. “What about the main living room?” Keith doesn’t respond and just shrugs. “Okay, how about the master bedroom? What do you like for that?”

“It’s your house, Shiro, you decide,” Keith turns through more pictures in the design book on the display. “It’s not up to me.”

Shiro pauses for a moment. “But what if I want it to be.”

Keith scoffs. “You can’t make me decide on everything for you, I already did what I could for getting that list for Romelle together. Remember?” He turns to look at Shiro, one brow raised.

Oh, yeah, Shiro remembers, but Shiro won’t be distracted from this. He pushes the conversation forward. “I’m not saying you decide for me, I’m saying...we decide together.”

Keith’s face falls to a frown. “Why? It’s your house, you’re living in it. I’m just going to keep you back from picking,” Keith grabs a random swatch from the oranges, “Citrus Blast.”

“But you’ll be at the house, too.”

“Yeah, to visit.”

“But maybe not just to visit.”

Keith freezes, his grip on the offensively bright orange card intensifies and Shiro can see a crease forming where Keith’s fingers are. Taking a sharp breath, “You don’t mean that,” Keith shakes his head, voice tight.

“Yeah, Keith, I do,” Shiro responds softly, and he moves closer to Keith, taking his wrist in one hand and removing the slowly destroyed swatch in his hand. Moving his hand, Shiro intertwines their fingers, and the action has Keith slowly looking up at him. But, Keith’s eyes remain guarded, and it’s as if his bangs know to fall into his eyes, hiding him. “I realized—well, with some help—that I’ve been going about this all wrong. I shouldn’t be making these decisions myself. I shouldn’t be going to you only when I can’t decide. We should be doing this together because,” Shiro takes a deep breath. “Because at the end of this, I want this to be our house, not my house.”

Once the words are out, the moment hangs. Shiro feels suspended in time and as each second passes with no reaction from Keith; he feels his own foundation giving out. But then suddenly Shiro stumbles back as Keith barrels forward and throws his arms around Shiro’s neck. His head buries into the crook of Shiro’s neck, and Keith’s voice is uneven when he finally speaks. “Don’t fucking make me cry in the middle of a Home Depot, Shirogane.”

Shiro chuckles and wraps his arms around Keith, pulling him into a tighter hug. He closes his eyes and rests a cheek on the top of Keith’s head. “If it’s for the right reasons, then I have no issue making you cry.”

“You ass,” Keith’s muffled response tickles Shiro’s neck. 

They stay like that for a while. No one else comes down the paint aisle like the rest of the store knows there’s something significant going on in front of the Benjamin Moore display. Eventually, Keith shifts in Shiro’s arms and they move apart, but Shiro keeps a hand on Keith’s waist. “So, we’re doing this together?” Keith asks.

“Yeah,” Shiro nods. “Sorry you didn’t really have a say in the house itself, but everything else, that’s ours to decide on.”

“Okay,” Keith’s smile appears on his face slowly, a gentle slide until he’s trying to contain his emotion by ducking his again, but Shiro’s not having that. He takes Keith’s face in both his hands and leans down to kiss him, and Shiro can feel the joy on both their lips. When Shiro pulls back, there’s that full beam on Keith that he treasures.

“Together,” Shiro whispers and kisses him again, a quick peck. “We’re going to choose paint colors and flooring and counters. I want to get a dog with you.”

Keith laughs at the last part but agrees that they’ll adopt a dog together at the end of the renovation so Shiro can finally live his dream. Maybe it’s too early, but Shiro can’t help but feel his little family is starting to come together and he’ll really be able to picture it this time when they walk through the house again, imagining all the improvements.

After that, they both throw the rest of the day out the window because Shiro wants to go over the renovation list together and amend it to include anything that Keith wants. 

“But remember what it took to get this list out of you?” Keith complains.

“Well, we can make another game out of it for you, too,” Shiro grins and pushes Keith down on his couch once they arrive back at Keith’s apartment.

Except Shiro is incredibly weak to Keith sometimes, and all it took was a pout for the game to be forgotten and for Shiro to just give his boyfriend what he wants.

Clothes are lost quickly to the living room for them to deal with later. In the process, Keith gets himself on top of Shiro with a pleased look. “Wait here,” he tells Shiro and gets off the couch going towards the bedroom. 

“Where else would I go?” Shiro asks watching Keith’s naked backside as he walks away. Keith never responds but when he returns to the living room, he slaps a bottle on the coffee table before climbing back on over Shiro. 

“You just stay right there,” Keith bends down to kiss him. Losing himself in the feeling of Keith licking into his mouth and biting at his lips, Shiro misses when Keith reaches to get the lube he just retrieved. 

Keith breaks himself away to sit up, and Shiro watches Keith coat his own fingers. He rests his other hand on Shiro’s chest and angles himself to be able to reach back. Shiro’s mouth falls open as he hungrily takes in the sight of Keith working himself open above. 

“Is this what you want?” Keith asks breathlessly with a pleased smile. 

“I’d rather get you ready myself,” Shiro admits. “But I don’t mind this view.”

Keith holds out the lube to Shiro and then holds up the hand that he’s using to open himself. “Give me more,” he instructs. 

The click of the cap feels loud in Shiro’s ears. He puts more on Keith’s fingers and follows them as they move back and disappear behind Keith. Using his hand on Shiro’s chest as leverage, Keith starts to rock back and forth, riding his own fingers. It’s too much for Shiro to watch as little whines start to drip out of Keith’s mouth. 

A particularly loud moan of Shiro’s name has him gripping Keith’s hips tightly. “Let me fuck you, please, baby,” Shiro pleads. 

“I told you to stay there,” Keith’s attempt at a firm voice wavering. “Get yourself ready.”

Shiro works lube on himself, stroking slowly as he watches Keith continue to move above him. He’s absolutely burning inside right now. He’s burning to be inside Keith as well. 

Eventually, _finally,_ to Shiro, Keith takes hold of Shiro before slowly sinking down. Shiro wants to watch as his length disappears inside him, but it’s all too much and he closes his eyes and throws his head back with a moan. 

Keith doesn’t waste time, picking up his pace quickly. Shiro offers hard thrusts up, hitting Keith in the right place to make him keen and dig his nails into Shiro’s chest. 

“God, you always feel so good,” Keith groans, throwing his head back. 

“It’s for you,” Shiro pants out and starts moving Keith as he wants with the hard grip on his hips. 

“Always for me,” Keith gasps. 

And it’s true, Shiro vaguely thinks through the clouded pleasure making all his thoughts narrow in on how incredible it feels to have Keith taking him like this. How it feels to watch Keith crumble. But it is true that for Shiro, this will always just be for Keith. He’s the only one for Keith as Keith is for him. 

Keith falls forward more, barely keeping his arms on Shiro to hold himself up. He could flip them over, fuck Keith hard into the couch to get them both over the edge faster. But Shiro knows better than that right now. 

They keep gasping and moaning each other’s names and endearments, usually half-formed, until Shiro arches with his mouth open in silence and comes. When Shiro’s back to coherence, Keith lifts off him and sits on his hips, Shiro soft and spent just grazing his ass. Keith takes himself in hand and strokes fast with a twist a few times before he comes across Shiro’s chest. 

Keith collapses to the side, resting himself on the back of the couch with his eyes closed and a blissed expression on his face. 

Later, once they’ve cleaned up and resituated themselves on the couch, “Anything else you want furniture wise?” Shiro asks. Keith’s head is laying on Shiro’s chest and the blanket Allura and Lance gave to Keith for Christmas covering them. Shiro’s fingers are running through Keith’s hair while Keith’s draw patterns on Shiro’s bare chest. Thinking about how this moment will be something he can have forever, Shiro moves his hand to hold Keith’s jaw and pull his face up. 

Keith scrunches his nose at him and laughs. “Don’t worry, I’m paying attention, I’ll think about furniture.”

“I just wanted to look at you.”

A blush blooms across Keith’s face and he tries to move out of Shiro’s hold. “Okay, you’ve looked,” he mumbles.

“I don’t think I have,” Shiro replies. He lets go of Keith’s face and instead moves both arms to hold Keith’s hips and drag him up. Flailing for a moment, Keith wraps his arms around Shiro’s shoulders as he’s pulled up, flush against Shiro’s body, their faces an inch apart now. “Better,” Shiro says quietly, smiling.

“God, you’re embarrassing,” Keith tucks his face next to Shiro’s, his hair tickling Shiro’s nose.

“Only for you,” Shiro gives a light slap to Keith’s ass, and Keith replies with a  _ hmph _ sound, much to Shiro’s amusement. “Back to furniture, though. What do you want?”

“A big bed,” Keith says immediately.

“So you have thought about this,” Shiro nudges Keith’s hair with his nose.

“No, I just decided this since we’re cramped on this couch.”

“Are we going to decide on furniture based on whether we can have sex on it?” 

“Yep,” Keith puts emphasis on the end of the word.

“I can agree with that,” Shiro wraps his arms around Keith and holds him tight.

\---

Shiro and Keith go over to Kolivan’s house later that week to inform him of the minor tweaks and changes they’ve decided to add to the house, which are mainly some of Keith’s ideas and things he wants as he will also be living there at the end of the renovation. When Keith gets up to go to the bathroom at one point and leaves Shiro with Kolivan and Antok, who arrived later, he shifts anxiously in his seat. He’s spent more time with Keith’s family over the past few weeks, but he’s still tense when left alone with them.

“Well, Shiro, I must admit, I’m glad you’ve both decided this,” Kolivan crosses his arms and leans back in his chair. “A little surprised, but it feels right.” Antok nods in agreement as Kolivan speaks.

Taking a breath, Shiro talks to him about something he’s had on his mind since the realization that the home needs to be Keith’s as much as his. “Whenever I first met and spoke with you, Thace said something that stayed with me. He said that Keith has always put so much time and effort into finding other people their homes and never his, and it made me think that maybe this is it then. He found me a house, but also, we...found each other. And it was him finally finding his own house, too.” Shiro pauses. “I don’t know if that makes sense, but it feels right.”

His gaze had dropped to his hands on his lap as he nervously wrung them, but now he looks up to the other two men, and they’re both wearing contented smiles. Shiro is taken aback.

“I think you’re right,” Antok says, and Kolivan nods in agreement. The conversation doesn’t go beyond that since Keith walks back into the room, but Shiro doesn’t think anything more needed to be said.

“By the way,” Kolivan starts once Keith has rejoined them. “You really did a terrible job trying to knock that wall down in the bathroom.”

“It was so hard, we tried!” Keith tries to defend the poor attempt of theirs at having a hand in the gutting process.

“You used a mallet,” Antok shakes his head. “That wasn’t the right tool at all.”

“Oh,” Shiro and Keith say in unison.

“I cannot decide if I’m glad or upset that you didn’t go into the family business now,” Kolivan doesn’t actually sound too disappointed when saying this. “Did I teach you nothing?”

“You taught me the important things,” Keith replies, taking Shiro’s hand. “Like what’s important in life.”

“I suppose I did,” Kolivan eyes their clasped hands, grinning.

When they talk to Romelle about the minor changes in plan, she’s ecstatic, her high pitch scream of excitement making the two of them wince as it fills the space of Shiro’s car. Maybe they shouldn’t have called her while driving to meet with Allura and Lance.

The dinner with Team Blue was partly a thank you to them, for what, it was never really specified, but Shiro felt like they owed it to the real estate power couple. Keith didn’t feel the same way but still went along with it. They also planned to tell Allura and Lance the renovation update since Keith had managed to keep it a secret from them at work, but it was all in vain when they arrived at the restaurant and the other couple was already there and seated.

“Romelle just texted me the good news!” Allura stands quickly once they approach the table and throws her arms around Keith, pulling him into a tight hug. 

“Can’t believe you didn’t tell us,” Lance gives Keith a playful punch while he’s still being crushed by Allura.

“It was a surprise,” Shiro says. 

“We’re his closest friends, there are no secrets,” Lance declares.

“There are so many secrets,” Keith huffs, finally free of Allura’s embrace even though she looks like she wants to wrap him in another hug already.

“What secrets?” Lance squawks. “We’re best friends, and I’m going to be your Best Man at the wedding.” He points between Keith and Shiro as he says this.

The simple mention of a wedding makes something tight coil inside Shiro, not out of dread or fear, but a nervous excitedness that, yes, that’s probably likely someday. He hopes it will be. They’re essentially building a home together—well, remodeling, but it’s similar.

“Shiro is going to be my Best Man,” Keith says this while looking at the menu indifferently.

“He can’t be your Best Man, he’ll be the other groom!” Lance cries.

“Guess I won’t have one then,” Keith decides dismissively, but there’s a small lift at the corner of the mouth, which Shiro knows as a sign that he’s trying to keep back a smile. It could either be from riling Lance up before they’ve even ordered drinks or from the thought of getting married, and Shiro dearly hopes it’s the latter.

At one point Lance brings up his disappointment that Allura and he weren’t the realtors to find Shiro and Keith their house. Lance’s bemoaning makes Keith roll his eyes and remind him that if Keith hadn’t been Shiro’s agent, then they wouldn’t all be sitting around the table at this seafood restaurant. 

“Fair,” Lance concedes. “But your next house, you’re coming to us.”

“Why would we do that when we’re making this house the way we want?” Keith scowls.

“For when you get bored or need to go bigger!” Lance fights back.

“But then we would probably build our own, and we wouldn’t need you. Skip right ahead to Kolivan and Romelle,” Keith points his fork at Lance and then uses it to stab a shrimp.

“Fine, I’ll find the land for you!”

“But you don’t do land sales.”

“KEITH,” Lance’s yell takes all of them and everyone seated at tables around them by surprise. “Sorry,” he clears his throat. “Would you fucking let me help you as a friend and not make it so goddamn difficult.”

“I’m not being difficult,” Keith tilts his head before taking another forkful of shrimp pasta into his mouth.

Lance is left gaping at him as Allura gently pats his arm and tries to distract him with a bread roll. “I hope you know this is the rest of your life,” Lance addresses Shiro.

“Yeah,” Shiro replies with a smile, looking fondly over at Keith.

\---

Buzzing wakes up Shiro from the Saturday afternoon nap he was indulging in with Keith. They were deep into the renovation process now, and the two of them spent all their time not at work or with each other consulting with the renovation and design team. A minor hiccup in the process of ripping up the kitchen tile left Romelle in an over-the-top panic while Kolivan tried and failed to calm her down with his usual monotone demeanor. Shiro and Keith swooped in to tell her it would all be fine even if the design vision she planned had a setback. An hour later, the two of them managed to be able to leave the remodel site and promptly collapsed in Keith’s bed and passed out upon getting to his apartment.

Reaching blindly on the side table because he refuses to open his eyes fully just yet, Shiro’s hand finds his phone and swipes to answer the call.

“Hello?” he asks, grogginess still heavy in his voice.

“Takashi, where are you?” his mom asks, sounding worried and relieved at the same time. Shiro suddenly sits up and realizes he forgot the afternoon video call he planned with his parents today. The movement wakes Keith up, who starts mumbling at Shiro and reaches out to grab him in order to pull him back down to the bed. Shiro tries to wave of Keith’s hands as he replies to his mom.

“I’m sorry, Keith and I fell asleep after checking the house!” Shiro explains. “I can call later when I get home?”

Keith’s head perks up from where it’s buried between Shiro’s hip and the bed. “Is that your parents?”

Shiro moves the phone away from his mouth to reply. “Yeah, I forgot we had a video call planned.”

“You can use my computer.”

“No, no, Keith, it’s okay, I’ll go home and—” Shiro tries to turn down the offer, but Keith won’t have it, it seems, and rolls out of bed to grab his laptop from the desk in the corner of the bedroom. “Here,” he holds it out to Shiro.

“When will you be home?” Shiro’s mom asks.

“Um, actually, well, Keith is telling me to use his computer to talk to you...so we can now…” Shiro informs her.

There’s a pause. “Does this mean we finally get to talk to him?” Shiro hears his dad’s voice ask in the background. 

_ Oh. _

“Um, if Keith wants to be in the call, he can,” Shiro looks over at Keith, eyes wide and trying to convey that he doesn’t have to do this.

“I’d love to!” Keith yells so it’s loud enough to carry through the phone to his parents.

He lets them know he’ll call them soon, and they both sound excited as he hangs up. “Are you sure you want to? You really don’t have to,” Shiro checks with Keith.

“I didn’t really give you a choice when you met my family, and that was in person, which is way worse. Plus, I do really want to talk to them,” Keith reassures. The confirmation eases something tense inside Shiro.

“We should probably not do this here, though,” Shiro decides. Keith stares at him for a moment before realizing that maybe the first time you have a Skype call with your boyfriend’s parents shouldn’t be on a bed.

They relocate to the dining room and pull two chairs around to one side of the small table. Both of them still look a little sleep rumpled and try to do what they can for each other to appear slightly more presentable.

“Okay, let’s do this,” Shiro breathes out after logging into the app, cursor hovering over the contact photo of his parents during their last trip back to Japan. Keith leans into Shiro and squeezes his arm in reassurance. 

Shiro doesn’t understand why he’s so nervous about this right now. It’s not like his parents don’t know about Keith, and everything he’s told them so far has been received well by them. Plus, Shiro’s already met Keith’s family. He’s already done the hard part and gotten through it. With everything else going on, the fact that they’re almost quite literally building a house together, this has Shiro on edge. Keith and his parents coming face-to-face, even though it may be via computer screen, threatens to launch him into a minor crisis.

The call connects, and Shiro’s parents’ faces fill Keith’s laptop’s screen. In the corner, the little box shows Shiro and Keith. Everyone is smiling, and Shiro’s parents start to wave enthusiastically and greet Keith. He lets out a breath, calming himself.

“Hi Mom, hi Dad, this is Keith,” Shiro takes the hand that Keith holds and moves it to put around Keith’s shoulders and pull him in a little closer.

“Hello, it’s a pleasure to meet you, both,” Keith smiles. 

His parents return Keith’s greeting warmly and automatically start up on the usual parental commentary about how Keith is so handsome and how Shiro better be treating him well. They thank him for finding a house and most likely being the only reason the remodel will go well at all. (Shiro interjects a  _ Hey! _ there.) And of course, they tell Shiro and Keith that they need to start planning a visit out to see them immediately.

“Once you have your new house, you won’t want to come visit us,” Shiro’s dad pretends to be disappointed, making his mother rock and throw her head back to let out a laugh.

“I’ll make sure he always comes back to visit,” Keith assures with his own laughter. “And that you have the nicest room when you come to visit us. Do you want your own balcony?” Keith gives Shiro a quick devious glance, going back to that first day they looked at a house together.

“Takashi asked us the same thing,” his dad says with suspicion. “We better have one now.”

“I’ll be sure to tell my uncle,” Keith nods in agreement.

Watching the interaction unfold in front of him makes Shiro’s heart feel full. Everything about this moment is something he wants to hold in his hands and keep in a pocket for when he’s having a hard day because the sight of his parents being charmed by and joking with Keith is the best thing he could ask for. The house could burn down right now and the renovation lost, but Shiro would have this. He would wrap Keith up and move them into his high-rise bachelor apartment and then whisk them both off on a plane to see his parents and then just keeping going everywhere the two of them ever wanted to. And maybe they’ll do that one day, after the house is done, simply travel wherever, but right now, this is good. Shiro’s feet are on the ground in a way that they’re meant to be, with love.

\---

Keith is whining Shiro’s name while lying across the bed. Except it’s the whine of a petulant child who’s not getting what he wants and the bed in question is at a mattress store. None of this is Shiro’s ideal.

“We absolutely do not need a bed that big,” Shiro tells Keith, exasperated. “I didn’t even know beds came this big.” 

They’re doing some exploratory furniture shopping at one of the higher end stores in the city that Romelle recommended. “Shiro, dear, you have the money. Use it,” she’d said over the phone before texting him the address of the place. And now thanks to this store, Shiro and Keith have become aware that Wyoming and Alaskan King beds are a thing, widening their horizons far beyond a California King. Even though there’s something deeply appealing about these larger beds and the fact they’re a bit over-the-top in indulgence, Shiro still can’t seriously consider buying one.

“Look, Shiro, look!” Keith flails to catch Shiro’s attention again and rolls around so he’s lying sideways on the Alaskan King. “Look at how much space there still is around me!”

“We don’t need that much space, though, babe,” Shiro tries to sound more frustrated but he’s rather entertained by Keith’s current attempt to win him over with the mattress. “Why do you want it to be that big? Do you want to sleep that far away from me?” Shiro sticks his bottom lip out.

“It’s more room for  _ activities,” _ Keith wags his eyebrows at Shiro, which looks so ridiculous it causes Shiro to burst out laughing.

“I think a California King will be just the right size for us,” Shiro wanders back over to where the mattress for said bed is and sits down on the edge before collapsing backward across it. “Yeah, just right.”

“Okay, Goldilocks,” Keith scoffs from where he’s committed to most extra mattress in existence. “But, what about the dog? Or dogs?”

“What about our non-existent dog or dogs?” Shiro asks with his eyes on the ceiling.

“What if they’re big? They need to fit on the bed with us. We’re all barely going to fit on that measly California King. Alaska, though, that’s where it’s at.”

“We’ll all cuddle close.”

“What about in the summer?”

“We’ll turn the air up,” Shiro counters.

“Think about the environment, Shiro,” Keith pushes.

“Are you trying to say that that bed is an environmentally friendly choice?” Shiro lifts his head so he can look over at Keith who has propped himself up on his elbows.

“Exactly,” Keith answers as though he’s won. 

“Let’s start with the California King and work up to the Alaskan when we have some dogs,” Shiro chuckles.

“About that,” Keith says slowly.

“About what?”

Keith looks hesitant for a moment. “I thought maybe we could go by one of the shelters later this afternoon.”

“Yes,” Shiro automatically answers and bounds up from the mattress, quickly going over to Keith and grabbing his hands to haul him up as well. “Let’s go.”

Keith tries to slow Shiro down and say they still have to go through the rest of the store because they only made it through the first floor with all the bedroom furniture. Shiro mutters something about how they can come back to the store whenever it’s not as if the beds are going anywhere, but their future dog could be at the shelter right  _ now _ waiting for them.

“Don’t fight it,” Shiro says deathly serious to Keith as they walk out of the store.

“I’m not, I’m the one who recommended this,” Keith argues.

“Best decision of your life,” Shiro declares pulling his keys out.

“I actually thought my best decision involved taking you on as a client, or finding you a house, or taking you to Allura and Lance’s open house,” Keith lists the options.

“Hmm, true, then this might be your second best,” Shiro agrees.

When they get to the shelter, Shiro can barely contain his enthusiasm as the staff member prepares to take them into the area with the dogs.

“Let me know when you see someone who catches your eye and you feel a connection with, and we’ll get them out to spend some time with you,” Lotor, the manager of the shelter tells them.

Shiro clutches Keith’s hand tightly as they start walking down the hall and see all the dogs. He’s overwhelmed. There are so many beautiful and cute animals around them and Shiro has to find just one among all of them with Keith? It feels impossible. 

“Are...you crying?” Keith tugs Shiro’s hand and whispers into his ear.

“No,” Shiro responds with a sniff. “Maybe.”

Keith lets go of Shiro’s hand to instead put his arm around Shiro’s waist. “Baby,” he coos.

“Stop,” Shiro rubs his eyes. “They’re all just so good.”

“It can be a lot,” Lotor nods. “But you’ll find the one. Or two.”

There are several dogs that Shiro notes as they make their way down, but then both he and Keith stop in front of one. The dog is large and looks a bit on the wolfish side. Shiro can’t decide what breed the dog is or what mix, but the dark black fur looks blue in certain places when the light hits. Shiro looks over and Keith already seems enamored as well.

They both walk up to the cage and read the information card next to the cage that the dog is a he and named Kosmo, and Kosmo is an unknown wolf mix.

“The wolf part usually worries people,” Lotor admits sadly.

“He looks like a sweetheart,” Keith says, crouching down in front of Kosmo. “Don’t you?” he murmurs at the dog.

Kosmo pops up from where he was sitting and comes to the front of the cage and looks up and Shiro and Keith, tail wagging and eyes thoughtful. “May we see him?” Shiro asks turning his head slightly so the question is directed at Lotor but his eyes remain on Keith putting a finger around one of the bars and Kosmo placing his paw over it.

When Kosmo enters the room where Shiro and Keith are waiting for him to have some time together, he immediately dashes over to where they’re standing and starts to rub against them while pushing his head into their hands. They both pet him, sitting down on the floor together so he can lick their faces and leave them both breathless from laughter. 

“He’s never had this reaction with anyone before,” Lotor notes bemusedly. “Kosmo always tends to stay shy and away from people.”

“How could he?” Shiro says, wrapping his arms around Kosmo’s middle as the dog’s head settles in Keith’s lap. “He’s wonderful.”

“It looks like you’ve found your dog,” Lotor raises his eyebrows.

Shiro looks over at Keith, with the mass of Kosmo and his fur between them. The house isn’t done yet, but something about Kosmo feels right. This dog is special and meant to be with them. Another piece of the puzzle of their little growing lives and family coming together.

“My parents would definitely keep him until the house is done, Kolivan, too,” Keith says, knowing what thoughts lurk in Shiro’s mind.

“Would that be okay? Or too much to move him around?” Shiro frowns, worried.

“If I may,” Lotor says from his casual wall lean. “I can place a hold on him and you can think about it, get your plans into place. But, I think we’ve found Kosmo a forever home, if I may say so as well.”

“A forever home,” Shiro whispers to himself. He turns back to Keith and there’s a brightness in his eyes and Shiro knows that it must be mirrored in his own. 

“Our home,” Keith says softly.

“Our home,” Shiro repeats.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yell @ me: [twitter](https://twitter.com/vrepitsana)

**Author's Note:**

> stay tuned for chapter 2, the remodel
> 
> yell @ me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/vrepitsana) & rip [tumblr](http://exitlude.tumblr.com/) (and @exitlude on Pillowfort once it rises again)


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